


I'm Here

by SandersFander1820 (RobinPlaysTrumpet15)



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Childhood Friends, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mentions of Blood, Mentions of Character Death, Minor Character Death, No one important dies, Polyamory, Polyamory Negotiations, Pre-Poly, Pre-Relationship, Romantic Soulmates, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates, mentions of borderline possibly abuse, mentions of guns, mentions of shootings, why the heckity heck do the tags for this have to be so hard
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-11
Updated: 2019-03-15
Packaged: 2019-06-26 01:34:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 34,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15653055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RobinPlaysTrumpet15/pseuds/SandersFander1820
Summary: Patton has soulmates- three of them. That many is uncommon, but for most people, that wouldn't be a problem. But Patton isn't most people...Also posted on Tumblr under SandersFander1820.





	1. Part One

**Author's Note:**

> This is getting cross posted here to make it easier for some people to follow and hopefully cut down on the amount of people I have in the taglist.
> 
> Like what I do? [Consider buying me a coffee.](https://ko-fi.com/judewalker)

He was in first grade when pen marks and marker swipes started showing up on his hands and arms.

At first, Patton didn’t think anything of it. He didn’t really pay much attention to it and didn’t notice it at first. That, and he had probably made some of the marks himself in his rush to color his drawings and stuff.

But he really started to notice the morning that he woke up to see a picture of three purple stick figures drawn on his arm. The lines were squiggly and not very steady, but Patton loved it. It was cute. Two of the stick people were a lot taller than the other one, the short one in the middle and seemingly holding hands with the others. They all had smiles on their faces.

So Patton nearly flew out of bed to show his mom and dad before he got ready for school.

The second his mother saw the drawing, she gasped and dragged him to the bathroom and started scrubbing at his arm. The entire time, she was scolding him and just about yelling about how he should never draw on himself and how he would end up with ink poisoning or something.

The scrubbing hurt. She was using one of their old washcloths that was kind of scratchy, one of the ones Patton hated using for anything because it wasn’t soft. But she’d wet it down and scrubbed some soap into it and rubbed it over and over and over Patton’s skin, rubbing it red and raw.

And Patton was crying. Because he hadn’t drawn it, and he tried telling his mom that, but she wouldn’t listen. Even when it wouldn’t come off and the drawing was stuck there, she continued scrubbing, her face pinched in an angry frown, putting more pressure into the movements until Patton was nearly screaming, yanking his arm out of her grasp and holding it to his chest.

“Don’t you ever do that again!”

And Patton ran back to his room, crying so hard he was nearly hyperventilating. There was snot running from his nose, salty tears streaming wildly down his cheeks and dripping off his chin.

It was a little while before Patton calmed down, pulling his arm away from his chest and inspecting the raw skin. Just moving his arm pulled at the skin that was stinging and burning. Patton whimpered to himself just as his mother came in.

“Patton, come here,” she said, motioning for him to come stand in front of her.

He was hesitant to do so, but he knew she would get angry if he defied her. So he stood and moved closer, coming to a stop and not looking his mother in the eye.

“Give me your arm, darling.” She held out her hand. He gave it to her and winced a little as she rubbed some cream over the stinging skin before wrapping gauze around his arm.

“Now, you’re going to wear a long sleeve shirt today, okay? And if someone seems the bandage, you tell them you fell down and hurt yourself. Got it?”

Patton looked up at her briefly before looking back down and nodding.

“Okay. Get ready for school, sweetheart,” she said before leaving down the hallway.

Patton sniffled a little, looking for his only clean long sleeve shirt. The school he went to had uniforms, and since their winters only ever got mildly cold, Patton only had two long sleeve, white polos. And one of them was stained, and his mom didn’t know that yet, so he had to find the other one. Thankfully, it didn’t take long. He still wore his shorts, not wanting to be too hot during the day.

So then he went and ate a bowl of cereal and brushed his teeth and let his dad comb his hair for the day. His dad handed him his packed lunch and told him to go grab his backpack. Patton did so and met the man by the back door to get in the car and head to school.

Patton felt a little bit better after his dad talked to him in the car, letting him sit in the front seat even though he knew he shouldn’t. His dad explained how writing on himself could hurt him if he did it too much, and that his mom had hurt herself a long time ago when she did it.

But Patton vowed to never so much as accidentally get a pen mark on his finger when writing.

*

Virgil was Patton’s best friend. They were in the same class and sat next to each other at the same table. Virgil was sort of quiet where Patton was excitable, but they were basically inseparable. They played together at recess and had sleepovers almost every weekend at one of their houses. Virgil’s parents called Patton their “second son”, and Patton’s parents loved having Virgil around because he was famously able to keep Patton fairly contained.

So when Patton showed up in class that morning, Virgil was immediately at his side.

“Hi, Pat,” Virgil said, a smile on his face.

“Hi, Virgil,” Patton greeted back. He didn’t hold his usual bounce and excitement, and Virgil was bound to notice it.

“Are you okay?”

And there it was. The concern. Virgil was very serious, and rather mature for his age. So it noticed things that other kids their age wouldn’t, and Patton kinda liked it.

Patton smiled a little brighter, nodding his head. “I’m okay.”

Virgil looked at him skeptically for a second.

“Come on, come color with me!” Patton nearly yelled, taking Virgil’s wrist and pulling the other boy over to their table with him, sitting them down in their chairs.

*

Patton didn’t notice right away. But when he did, he was sort of confused.

Because Virgil had the same drawing on his arm. It was the same squiggly purple lines and the same stick figures holding hands with the same smiles.

Patton wasn’t sure what had happened. How could he have the same drawing on his arm as Virgil? Was Virgil the one who drew it? Should Patton ask about it?

So Patton waited until the teacher let them go with their group work. Then he whispered to Virgil, sort of ignoring the other two kids at their table who were diligently working together to do their addition.

“Did you draw that?” Patton asked quietly, pointing at Virgil’s arm that was uncovered since he was wearing a short sleeve polo.

Virgil looked down at the picture for a second before looking up at his friend with a smile. “Uh huh! It’s me and my mom and dad. Mom really liked it.”

“Shouldn’t you not draw on yourself?” Patton asked.

Virgil’s eyebrows furrowed a bit, looking at his friend. “My mom and dad write to each other all the time…”

“They… write to each other?”

“Yeah,” Virgil said, tapping his pencil quickly against the table. “They’re soulmates.”

Patton didn’t know what that meant. He thought maybe he’d heard the term “soulmates” before, but he didn’t know what it meant.

So all he said was, “oh.”

*

“Mom,” Patton said on the ride home. “What are soulmates?”

“Soulmates aren’t real, Patton,” his mother said simply. Her tone had a finality to it that Patton did not want to challenge.

Besides, Mom knew a lot of things. He figured she was right about this too. Soulmates weren’t real, whatever they were.

*

Soon after the first drawing appeared, a lot of other ones did too. Virgil often used purple, which Patton knew was his favorite color. But there seemed to be two other people that were leaving them drawings as well. One of them favored the color red, but often used other colors as well, and another liked the colors blue and black.

And Patton never said anything about how he found these drawings on himself. He never showed them to his parents again, but Virgil would show him the red and blue drawings every morning when they met in class.

Patton pretended he hadn’t seen them before, because somehow, it seemed wrong that he be included in this.

So weeks turned into years, and later, it wasn’t just drawing. There were words. They started writing to each other and leaving messages. Virgil, Ro, and Lo got to know each other slowly. And Patton watched, until sixth grade.

In sixth grade, both of the homerooms were gathered in the gym to have a talk about Soulmates.

Patton, who had long been under the impression that soulmates weren’t real, was confused. Why would the school talk to them about something that didn’t exist? Unless it was to tell them all that soulmates weren’t actually real and that there was some other explanation for why everyone found writing on their skin.

Yeah, that was it. They were going to debunk (a word Patton learned from Lo the other day) everything to do with the whole “soulmate” thing.

Except… they didn’t. They were sat down and introduced to this group of people (note: couples), mostly in their late teens and early twenties. And they had the sixth graders doing all sorts of activities for about an hour and a half, talking about soulmates and what being a soulmate means.

Soulmates were two or more people who were destined to be with each other. Scientists were still searching for how the connections work and why certain people are connected together and others aren’t, but every set of soulmates were “meant to be”. They love each other implicitly and anything that they wrote or drew on their skin would should up on their soulmate’s skin.

So… so this meant that his mother was wrong. She had lied to him.

*

“Patton?” his father asked in the car on the way home. Patton spared a brief glance over at the man he looked so much like before turning his eyes back to the window.

“What?”

“Everything alright, kiddo?”

“Fine.”

*

“You. Lied. To me.” Patton demanded angrily at home.

His father came into the room quickly from hanging the car keys back on the hook by the door.

Patton’s mother looked at him, surprised from her seat on the couch. “Patton… what?”

“You lied to me! You told me soulmates weren’t real, but you lied!” Patton yelled, throwing his backpack to the floor. “They talked to us today! They told us all about soulmates and soulmarks!”

“Patton-”

“Why would you lie to me?! You wouldn’t believe me when I said I didn’t draw on myself, and you told me soulmates didn’t exist! And you knew! You must have known! Everyone knows about soulmates! Why didn’t I?”

A sort of dangerous look came over his mother’s face. Her eyes hardened in a way that Patton didn’t like but wouldn’t back down from. Because Patton’s emotions governed many of the things he did. And in this case, right now, Patton was angry.

“Patton, do not speak to your mother that way,” she warned.

“No.” Patton lifted his chin higher, his anger working to add much more bravado to his stature than usual.

A slight pause. “Excuse you?”

“No. Answer me,” Patton demanded harshly. “Why did you lie?”

The room was silent for a moment too long. Patton didn’t like it, and he could tell his dad was standing behind him, watching the situation unfold before him with no idea what to do.

But then, finally, she spoke. “Soulmates are useless, Patton. Anyone who believes in those childish fairy tales are setting themselves up for heartbreak and a life of torment and agony. You need to learn to grow up before you start demanding answers about things you don’t even understand.”

Patton’s face flashed with shock. For a second, his voice refused to cooperate with him.

“I didn’t lie to you. Soulmates don’t exist.”

Without another word, Patton stormed from the room, snagging his backpack from the ground as he stomped up the stairs and down the hallway, slamming his bedroom door behind him.

He didn’t know why his mother was so adamant that soulmates weren’t real, but one thing was for sure: Patton didn’t believe her. Patton had three soulmates out there, and one of them was his best friend who he would see in homeroom tomorrow morning.

And Patton was angry.

*

Virgil talked to Patton about their soulmates often. He showed the other boy his markings and drawings and let his friend read all the messages that Ro and Lo left. Of course, Patton was already very familiar with each and every mark. He saw them when he woke up in the morning since Ro seemed to do most of his line memorization at night, the same as when Virgil practiced his poetry. Lo seemed to have an earlier sleep schedule and woke up much earlier than the others did, and practiced “simple” (read: advanced) algebraic equations to get his brain moving.

And Patton watched them appear throughout the day. Why he was extremely careful at every second to ensure he never ended up with pen marks on his hands, they showed up anyway, mostly from Virgil, whose hands could be rather shaky, depending on how bad his anxiety was.

One time, Patton had even gone so far as to put a bandaid over a whole rainbow that had been left on the back of his hand. It’s not as if he could wash it off, and… after all this time, whatever order the other three had seemed to find worked. And it worked well. Patton was certain none of them had a clue that they had a fourth soulmate.

And Patton had always been rather empathetic. He worried to himself a lot whether his presence would mess up the flow and rhythm Virgil, Ro, and Lo had together. Because Patton hadn’t made himself known at the beginning of all this. He hadn’t drawn back to the others when Virgil’s very first drawing had shown up on them. Lo had left a checkmark and Ro had left a star, both indicating that they liked the stick figures.

But… he could feel them, sometimes. Or, he thought he could. When Virgil got really jittery, Patton couldn’t really sit still. And when Ro had performed in his first play, Patton wanted to sing for hours (and he had, playing video after video on YouTube). When Lo wins a debate with his junior high debate team, Patton couldn’t help but smile and wish that he could learn everything there was to know in the whole universe.

Could they feel him? It felt exciting that they might, because… it’s not like Patton didn’t want to be a part of what they have. He could honestly say he cared about them, because he did. But it had been his own fault that they didn’t really know him.

Or… no. It wasn’t his fault. It was his mother’s. It was her fault for telling him that soulmates didn’t exist. Her fault that he had been so scared to so much as accidentally make a tally mark on his fingers as he went to cap a pen.

But Patton ignored all that.

He listened to Virgil with rapt attention when he spoke about their soulmates. And Patton heard about when they all reached high school and had supposedly all gotten cellphones around the same time. Ro turned into Roman and Lo became Logan, and Patton didn’t really see a lot of drawings or writings on himself anymore. Because the three of them texted, and they called and followed each other on their social media.

And any sense of connection Patton had once hoped he could have was left in the dust. Because they had moved on to a point in their relationship that Patton couldn’t hope to achieve. He couldn’t catch up. Because he talked and texted with Virgil and often spent at least 75% of their time together, but it was different. Virgil may be his best friend, but Patton was certain that was all he saw them as.

So Patton ignored it all. The math equations, the play lines, and poems, he didn’t read them anymore. He let Virgil show him when they spent time together and Virgil got so pent up that he just had to gush for awhile about all the awesome things that Roman and Logan were and did and were going to be.

*

Years passed, and Patton could honestly say he couldn’t remember the last time he wore a short sleeve shirt. He wore last sleeve polos and sweaters or jackets all the time. He had gotten glasses back in freshman year when a teacher finally asked him why he wasn’t writing down any of the notes and the answer was that he couldn’t see the board.

His father had taken him to the eye doctor and the doctor had confirmed that Patton had probably needed glasses for years and no one had noticed. So now he had a pair of thick rimmed black glasses.

That night, Patton had snapchatted Virgil about the glasses and the first thing Virgil said was, “wow you look just like Logan!”.

Patton had cried.

Somewhere around the same time, some kids at school had started whispering about Patton behind his back. It took awhile for him to notice, but when he did, he heard things like “I bet he hasn’t got a soulmate”, “he covers his arms to hide it”, “he probably gets beat at home”.

There were worse ones, too. “Freak.” “Loser.” “Idiot.” “Airhead.” “A walking bad pun.” “Incomplete.”

“Unwanted.”

For exactly one week, Patton didn’t talk to anyone. Not Virgil, not his biology group for class, not his teachers, not his parents. No one. Virgil followed him around at school, constantly attempting to get Patton to talk to him. And when that failed, he went to their counselor. She had called Patton into her office and tried to talk to him, and during that time, Patton said two words.

“I’m fine.”

On Friday night, Patton’s father loaded him into the car with a pack overnight bag and dropped him at Virgil’s house with no warning.

The two spent three hours sitting in silence.

Until Virgil spoke up, his voice hard and guarded. “Let me see your arms.”

A flash a panic ripped through Patton, and for the briefest of moments, it intensified because it seemed as if his friend had noticed. But then he schooled the feelings away and crossed his arms.

“Why?”

“Because,” Virgil said simply.

“That’s not a reason.”

“I don’t care. Show me your arms.”

“No.”

Patton didn’t know if there was writing there or not. Virgil was wearing something long sleeved too, and Patton hadn’t seen his own arms since this morning. This was not the way he wanted Virgil to find out they were soulmates, if that day were to come at all.

But Virgil was persistent, and Patton’s nerves were frayed. So eventually, Patton layed down, stole a blanket off of his friend’s bed, and did his very best to go to sleep. It worked after a while.

Of course, not before he overheard a conversation that he shouldn’t have been privy to.

“Honestly, I just don’t get it! What could have happened?”

_“Well, has he informed you of any bullying at school? Or perhaps a family situation?”_

“No, Logan! Patton would have said something… Right? I mean… I’m his best friend…”

_“True, but there are some things people don’t wish to share with others, no matter how close they may be.”_

“No, not something this big. He knows that I’m here for him, no matter what.”

_“What, exactly, are you worried he has done?”_

“I… I think he’s… hurting himself…”

_“...oh.”_

“Oh? That’s all you have to say?”

_“I… do not know how I should respond in this instance. Perhaps if you are that worried, you should talk to an adult about it.”_

“I tried. He won’t listen to them either.”

_“Then you may just have to wait and see what happens. If you are unwilling to invade his privacy, and he won’t talk to the adults, there is not much else for you to do.”_

“...”

_“I know that face… There’s something else. What is it?”_

“I dunno, Logan… He’s been by my side since… since forever. I can’t bear the thought of losing him…”

_“How so? As a friend?”_

“I… I dunno. There’s… something. God, I wish you could talk to him, Logan. You’d understand what I mean. There’s something special about Patton…”

_“Like, say… if you lost me or Roman?”_

“...”

_“Virgil?”_

“Yeah, a lot like that…”

*

Patton’s heart had jumped into his throat. After a second of silence, he pretended to yawn and shift, as if still asleep. He hoped that the movement would cause Virgil to cut the conversation short and say goodnight to Logan. Because Patton didn’t want to listen to anymore of it.

Thankfully, Virgil did end up say goodnight to the other soon after, stating that he was afraid that Patton might wake from the noise.

Patton really did fall asleep quickly after that.

*

The next day, Patton forced himself to move past what he’d heard all those kids say, and be the happy pappy Patton everyone expected him to be. He might be dying on the inside, but no one else needed to know that.

Except there was something strained about it, and the closer they got to the end of high school, the worse it was. There was something so obviously fake about the way he presented himself to the world. But at this point, it had been so long that no one questioned it anymore.

*

Their high school graduation was great. Patton shed more than just a few tears, sitting with his hand firmly clasped in Virgil’s the whole time. It ended and they all stood up for the final blessing of the graduates and to leave the sanctuary just as they had rehearsed earlier that morning.

Something had possessed Patton to put a sharpie in the pocket of his slacks earlier when he was getting dressed for the ceremony. Something about the last six and a half years and the way he mother was looking at him, and the way Virgil’s eyes lit up when Patton smiled urged him to keep the marker on hand today.

As if he would need a sharpie at his graduation ceremony.

But just as the band began to play the closing song that they would recess out to, Patton felt his hand brush against the hard line of marker in his pocket. And suddenly he was desperately pulling the end of his red gown up just far enough to reach into his pocket, grasp the sharpie and pull it out.

Virgil wasn’t paying attention to him for the moment, anxiously watching as the other rows left until it was their turn, so Patton had just a moment.

He let his gown sleeve fall to his elbow before unbuttoning the cuff of his dress shirt and yanking it up to expose his skin. At his wrist, there were three hearts, purple, red, and blue. They had been put there this morning with the knowledge that Virgil had his graduation ceremony this evening.

Patton grasped the sharpie lid between his teeth, uncapping it quickly, before writing in big, bold lettering across the inside of his forearm: **I’M HERE**.

As quickly as he could, he replaced the marker in his pocket, let his gown fall back into place, and followed Virgil in the line, leaving the building.

They got separated as the former seniors all gathered outside, hearing a “3… 2… 1…” before they all threw their caps into the air.

And Patton felt lighter than ever. He laughed with tears streaming down his face, watching as caps fell all around them, everyone cheering and congratulating each other, meeting up with family and friends and hugging and screaming.

Patton watched it happen for a second, smiling like the fool he played he was, until someone’s hands were on his shoulders, spinning him around. And there was Virgil, with tears in his eyes and a smile on his lips, pulling his friend into a hug.

But he pulled away too fast, reaching for his sleeve and tugging it back, working the button on his sleeve so harshly that it nearly popped off. And there it was. **I’M HERE** in big, black letters.

And Virgil stared at it for a second before lifting his face again and glancing around in a confused daze.

“They aren’t… neither of them wrote this…” he seemed to say to himself. The chaos around them was only a bit too loud for Patton to hear him correctly.

But Patton smiled a little more broadly, if only for Virgil’s sake, pulling up his sleeves that he hadn’t bothered to fix correctly, showing Virgil the same words in slightly smeared black sharpie.

“I’m here…”


	2. Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The immediate fallout of Patton revealing himself as Virgil's third soulmate.

“What?”

Patton could feel himself go pale.

Oh no… oh no, oh no, oh no oh no no no no-

He fucked up. He shouldn’t have done this. He’d been right all along, his mother was right. Patton didn’t belong with them, of course he didn’t. There had been something telling him not to reach out to them almost his whole life, and he hadn’t listened.

Virgil was going to hate him. Why wouldn’t Virgil hate him? He dealt with so many things already, this was the one good thing Virgil could count on, and now here Patton was, taking it away from him. How were the others supposed to continue after this? Ignore the fact that they have another soulmate? Leave Patton behind? It wasn’t unheard of, so it was an option.

Suddenly Patton realized Virgil was just staring at him, his mouth hanging open.

And for once, Patton couldn’t read his expression.

“I’m sorry,” Patton said, drawing his arm to his chest. He stepped back just slightly, ready to turn and bolt. “I’m so sorry…”

“Patton-”

He didn’t realize he was crying until he had turned and made his way through the crowd of his classmates to find his family. No one stopped him, which was fine. There were plenty of others who were crying so he wasn’t really out of place here. But then he found his family, his parents and grandparents, aunt, uncle, and cousin. Thomas spotted him first, immediately opening his arms to him and letting Patton cry into his chest. Patton was shorter than Thomas, only eye level with his cousin’s mouth.

His family was cooing at him, giving him congratulations on his graduation and assuming he was crying for some totally different reason than he was.

“Patton, honey, that’s a lot of tears for a happy time,” his grandmother said half jokingly, rubbing circle between his shoulders as Thomas continued to hold him.

But Patton just cried a bit harder, turning his face into his cousin’s chest, hiding in the black fabric and ignoring how the mermaid sequins felt weird on his chin and mouth.

“Oh, hi, Virgil!” Patton’s mother greeted.

“Hi, Mrs. Tate,” Virgil greeted, the same tone of voice he always used with adults. Or, rather, adults that Virgil liked. He was sort of reserved and respectful with very little flection. Or, at least not the same, normal inflection his voice usually held.

“Is Patton alright?”

“Oh, I’m sure he’s just emotional over the ceremony and all. You know him, dear,” Patton’s mother said flippantly. He could hear in her voice the waving off motion she did with her hand.

“Oh,” Virgil mumbled.

“Oh, boys, let’s get a picture of you two!” Patton’s father said excitedly. “We’ll have to get these pictures done before you both go and turn in your gowns and get your diplomas.”

Patton was hesitant to leave the safety of Thomas’ shirt. He knew he’d have to eventually, but he didn’t want to face Virgil or… anybody right now. At the moment, he was being held by sturdy, strong arms, and he was slowly calming himself, if only for show.

Once he got home and secluded himself in his room, it would be a different story.

“Come on, Patton,” his father called. “Picture time!”

“Let’s see that gorgeous smile of yours, dear!”

So Patton took a deep breath, left the comfort and relative safety of Thomas’ arms, and braced himself for the worst few hours of his life.

*

Virgil attempted to talk to Patton several times throughout the evening, but Patton kept brushing it off. He would pretend not to notice Virgil trying to make eye contact, or how he had sent him like, ten texts during dinner. Patton was fairly certain that several people, his grandmother and Thomas being the main two, had noticed this and were obviously concerned about whatever was up between the two.

But Patton was good at ignoring things.

So he continued on as if nothing had happened. He pretended that there wasn’t any writing on his arm, or that he had confessed after years and years of silence that he was his best friend’s third soulmate.

Because Patton knew what would happen if he let this conversation happen. Virgil was probably angry. Angry that Patton had never said anything. Angry that he would try to ruin one of the only good things in his life. Angry that now he’d have to go back to Logan and Roman and explain that they had a fourth soulmate who had never talked to them, not really.

Angry that Patton had lied.

Because he had. Patton had lied every time he let Virgil show him the drawings and phrases and conversations from Roman and Logan. He had lied once, saying he didn’t have any soulmarks. He had been lying for eleven and a half years, wearing long sleeves to cover the marks, and covers others with band-aids and gauze, playing that he was just clumsy and hurt himself a lot.

No. That conversation would be awful.

So they just wouldn’t have it.

Sure, college was going to be awkward since he and Virgil were rooming together, which had been decided in an effort to appease the older teen’s anxiety and for the fact that they had always conquered new challenges together.

But oh well. There wasn’t much to be done about that.

*

Virgil had muted his incoming texts from both Logan and Roman. Because both of them were freaking out. They could tell Virgil hadn’t been the one to write **I’M HERE** on his arm, and they had texted each other, concluding that neither of them had written it either. So that could only mean that they had another soulmate none of them had known about which… had some interesting implications.

He read through all of them when he got home and changed out of his black slacks and deep purple dress shirt.

Princey @ 7:14 | Vee did you write this?

Lo @ 7:16 | Who’s here?

Princey @ 7:21 | hello?

Princey @ 7:26 | Virgil I know your ceremony ended already. Where are you?

Princey @ 7:29 | come on, panic at the everywhere. What’s going on?

Lo @ 7:30 | Roman says you are no answering your phone. Is something wrong?

Princey @ 7:32 | Virgil!

Lo @ 7:35 | Virgil?

Princey @ 7:37 | oh you’re probs out to dinner with your family aren’t you? Sorry we’re bugging you, darling

Lo @ 7:40 | Roman surmised you must be having a celebration with your family. I am sorry for sending you so many texts. Please text us when you are free.

Virgil almost wanted to laugh at his soulmates. They could be such worry warts, and coming from him, that was rather impressive. But laughing wasn’t high on the list of things to do right now.

He sent off some quick texts, telling them both to hop on their computers and open up Skype so they could start a group call. He wanted to have a sort of face to face conversation for this. He was already trying not to cry.

Something was up with Patton. He was ignoring everything Virgil tried to say to him, no matter what it was, and right after telling him they were soulmates? Why? Why wouldn’t he tell Virgil before now? Why wouldn’t he talk to him about it?

Patton had fixed his sleeves before anyone else could see the words, and Virgil had done the same. And he acted like nothing had happened.

What the hell?

He settled on his bed and pulled his laptop to him, opening it and starting up Skype. Not a minute later, he had a call from Roman Prince with Logan Johnson Jr.

He answered the call, watching as their faces popped up in front of him.

_“Virgil!”_ Roman exclaimed.

“Hey,” Virgil answered sheepishly.

_“How was your graduation?”_ Logan asked conversationally.

If Roman could hit Logan with a look, he just did.

_“Logan-”_

“Graduation was great,” Virgil said quickly, moving on before he could stop himself. “We have another soulmate.”

_“We have- what?”_

_“A-another… soulmate?”_

Virgil nodded, not quite looking at the camera… or the screen. He wasn’t sure how they were going to react. They were confused. And probably assumed that Virgil didn’t know who this person was.

_“Are you sure?”_

_“Do you know who it is?”_

Virgil nodded, looking up at the screen finally. Logan adjusted his glasses, which seemed to be the exact same frames as Patton’s Virgil had never really seen them up close, other than the occasional selfies on Snapchat. Roman’s gaze was focussed slightly below the camera, betraying how he too was surveying Virgil or Logan on his own screen.

“It’s Patton.”

Stunned silence.

_“Patton? Like, your best friend, Patton? The guy we’ve been hearing about since forever ago?”_ Roman demanded quickly once he’d found his voice again.

Virgil nodded again.

_“Forgive my bluntness, but how, exactly, did you fail to notice that your best friend of twelve years is one of your soulmates?”_ Logan asked. His tone was exasperated. The screen showed him sitting back in his desk chair, his arms folded across his chest, a slight frown on his lips.

Virgil huffed. “I’ve told you before, Logan. Patton’s been wearing long sleeves probably since we met. I have never seen him in short sleeves. Today was the first time I’ve seen his arm before.”

_“Are you kidding?”_

Something spiked in Virgil’s chest just long enough for him to bite out, “Why the absolute fuck would I be kidding about this, Roman?”

But then the feeling was gone as soon as it appeared and Virgil just felt bad.

“I’m sorry…”

_“We know you’re not kidding, Vee. But…”_ Logan started, pausing as if gathering his thoughts. _“What did he say?”_

Virgil shook his head. “Absolutely nothing.”

_“More importantly, what did_ you _say?”_ Roman asked, leaning closer to his camera, eyeing it intently.

“I… nothing.”

_“Wh-”_

“I couldn’t think of anything! And then he said he was sorry, turned away and went and cried in his cousin’s arms. After that, he didn't talk to me! I tried to say something to him, but he kept ignoring me!”

_“It sounds as if he got the wrong idea,”_ Logan offered after a moment of silence.

“You think?”

_“But why wouldn’t he say anything to us to begin with? He literally never even drew to us when we were little. And I remember since my moms took pictures of everything.”_ Roman said.

Virgil shrugged, shaking his head again. “I dunno…”

_“Wait… You’ve told us before that you show him all of your marks, correct? This would mean that he was letting you show him all the things he’d already seen on his own body, yes?”_

The irritation spiked again. “Yes, and this line of questioning is getting us exactly nowhere. So why don’t you guys do something helpful and tell me what to fucking do because I feel like I’m dying inside-”

_“Woah there-”_

_“Dying inside?”_

_“We are just trying to figure out what is going on to begin with-”_

_“Virgil, what’s going on?”_

_“Don’t go getting all pissy with us-”_

_“Roman, shut up. Virgil, you said you’re feeling bad?”_

He didn’t answer immediately. Roman was huffing, leaning back into the mountain of pillows he kept on his bed, his arms crossing angrily. But Logan was looking at him expectantly.

“Yeah… I feel… awful.”

_“Is it an anxiety attack?”_

Virgil shook his head, trying not to look at Roman still pouting. “No… like there’s this weight on my chest, crushing inwards. My heart hurts…”

_“You should see a doctor-”_

“No, I mean like-”

_“Oh oh oh, not your physical organ. You mean how people can feel physical pain in their bodies when feeling an extreme sadness or other hindering feeling.”_

“Yeah, Lo,” Virgil nodded, almost wanting to fight off the twitch of his lips into a brief smile.

Because he really did feel terrible.

“But… I don’t know, it doesn’t feel like it’s… mine… you know? Like these aren’t my own feelings, you know?” Virgil reached up, closing his eyes and rubbing at his forehead above his eyebrows.

_“Well that seems a little odd-”_

_“Soulbond.”_

Virgil looked up again, focussing his gaze on Roman’s half of the screen. “What?”

_“You’re feeling Patton’s feelings.”_

“But-”

_“It doesn’t matter that you didn’t know you were soulmates. You’ve still spent twelve years together. You know each other inside and out, that means something. You’ve got a connection with him that you couldn’t possibly have with us yet. It’s different. The two of you have bonded on a level that most people our age are told is impossible. So it’s completely possible that you can feel Patton’s emotions as well or almost as much as he does.”_ Roman was still leaning back in his pillows, a pinched, thoughtful look on his face, but his tone was much softer than it had been just a moment ago.

“You think?” Virgil asked softly.

Roman’s eyes concentrated squarely at the camera. _“Of course.”_

Virgil took in a deep breath, letting his out harshly and scrubbing his hands over his face. “Okay,” he sighed. “So, what do I do with that information?”

_“Well, let’s talk about your feelings for a moment,”_ Roman started, sitting up straight in bed again. _“What do you feel? Push aside the bond for a second and focus on yourself.”_

Virgil tried, closing his eyes and digging as deep as he dared. “I…”

Roman and Logan waited patiently.

“I… I love him and… I’m terrified.”


	3. Part Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patton gives in and calls Virgil.

Patton stared at his phone, sitting at the foot of his bed, the screen lit up with what might be the only recent picture of Virgil laughing. It was ringing.

He knew he should answer it. He had been avoiding his best friend- er, former best friend, for two days now. The taller teen had been calling him every few hours since the afternoon after graduation. That and texting him periodically. Probably for a couple reasons.

1\. They’re joint graduation party was in a few days.  
2\. They are… were best friends.  
3\. Patton had royally fucked up and Virgil wanted him to know how epically he had done so.

But Patton still really wanted to talk to him. He missed him, if he was honest with himself.

Patton’s dad had talked to him recently, wanting to know what was going on with his son. Patton had, rather reluctantly, told him what happened. He had shown him the words on his arm that he had tried so hard to scrub off his skin, with little success. Patton told the older man that he was soulmates with Virgil and Virgil’s soulmates, and had explained why he’d never said anything beforehand.

His father had teared up and hugged him, rubbing a hand in circles over his back soothingly.

“Oh, honey…” he’d whispered to him. “I never wanted this for you.”

Patton had cried. Sobbed. He’d hiccupped and his nose ran with snot and his tears soaked all over his cheeks and into his father’s polo.

“Darling, you have always run to Virgil when he needed him. The two of you have been best friends forever. You’ve loved each other for just as long, I know it. That’s not going to change now. You’ve gotten talk to him, honey.”

It had taken a while for Patton to calm down, and had involved getting him to change into his softest fleece sleep pants and a sweatshirt, and then the two cuddling on the couch and watching a movie together the way they had when Patton had been a child.

That night, after Patton had gone to bed, but before he had stopped playing around on his phone in the dark, he heard yelling.

His father was angry at his mother. He was angry that she had hurt their son in such a way, angry that she had so blatantly lied to him.

But he was also angry at himself, for standing by passively as she did those things, never correctly her or telling Patton that she was wrong.

And Patton didn’t want to listen. He’d popped in his earbuds and played whatever videos interested him on youtube until he finally dropped off to sleep in the middle of a video of his cousin singing something.

But now, it was the middle of the afternoon and neither of his parents were home. It was a Monday, so they were both at work, and Patton was home alone, wishing his cousin or Virgil was there.

The screen went dark for a second before lighting back up, showing a list of unacknowledged notifications, telling him he had a missed call from Virgil Foley.

He’d always run to Virgil before…

So… why not now?

It took another few minutes before he had plucked up the courage to lean over his crossed legs and grabbed his phone, unlocking it quickly. He was tearing up as he opened his contacts and scrolled down to the only V name he had.

*

Virgil sighed again, dropping his phone into his lap and wishing he could throw it against the wall. He really wished Patton would talk to him. It had been days now, and his friend hadn’t acknowledged him once. It had Virgil on edge, ready to drop everything and just drive the five minutes it took to get to Patton’s house, break down the door, and fucking snuggle the life out of him.

He probably thought Virgil hated him!

That was painful. And frustrating.

It was starting to set Logan and Roman on edge too. They could feel each other’s emotions. Now outright or perfectly, but if they thought about it and one of them was feeling something really intense, they could feel it. And right now, Virgil could feel Patton dying in his heart.

Logan and Roman couldn’t really feel that, but they could tell Virgil was unhappy. Not just because they could feel it, but because he had told them. Multiple times.

They had both tried their best to console Virgil or give him advice, but it was getting to be a bit much at this point. Roman had classes and finals to worry about at college, and Logan himself was also preparing for graduation, though his would be a lot less involved given that he was home schooled. But they were both busy and a bit out of their league.

Virgil dropped back onto his bed, spreading his arms and legs out, wishing it was a bit cooler in his room but refusing to take off his jacket. It was just the principle of the thing.

Suddenly his phone buzzed to life in his hand, playing _Best Day of My Life_ by American Authors. Patton’s ringtone.

He nearly flew into a sitting position, answering the call as quickly as he could.

“Patton?” he breathed into the speaker, his heart pounding out of his chest.

He heard a sniffle on the other end of the line. _“V… Virgil?”_

“Patton, what’s-”

_“Come get me.”_

“Are you at home?” he asked immediately.

A sniffle. _“Hmhm…”_

“I’ll be right there-”

_“Please stay on the phone,”_ Patton begged quickly, his voice choked.

Virgil took a deep breath, standing from his bed and doing his best to pull on his shoes with one available hand. He didn’t even bother to tie them.

“Okay, babe,” he responded automatically. “I will until I’m behind the wheel.”

Patton whined, but Virgil shushed him quickly, flying through his house, grabbing his car keys from the bowl in the kitchen.

“Shh, five minutes. That’s all, sweetie. Five, okay?”

Patton was quiet as Virgil opened his car door and settled behind the wheel. _“Okay…”_

“Alright. I’ll be there soon, okay?” Virgil said.

_“...K.”_

Virgil started the car. “Okay. I love you, Pat. Five minutes.”

*

True to his word, Virgil found himself pulling into the Tates’ driveway five minutes later. He had barely thrown the car into park before opening the door and speed walking up to the front door. The door was locked in true Mrs. Tate style. Her son may be eighteen years old, but she’ll still lock the door when she goes to work just so that someone won’t get in to kill him or something.

He took out his key and unlocked the door quickly, letting himself in and entering the living room to his left.

There was Patton, sitting almost uncomfortably on the couch, staring apprehensively at the wall, spaced out.

“Pat?” Virgil said softly, catching the brunette’s attention.

Patton head whipped towards him and stared for a second, his eyes wide and watering. His lip quivered a little as he whimpered Virgil’s name.

The older was perched on the cushion next to him in two seconds, wrapping him up in a tight hug. Patton latched onto him like he might never let go, sniffling and wishing his tears weren’t going to come back.

Virgil’s hand came up to the back of Patton’s head, fingers carding through the short brunette locks carefully. They weren’t as soft as they usually were. Patton had probably been neglecting to take a shower, and more than likely hadn’t eaten properly since the night their families went out together after the ceremony. He knew for a fact that the younger used heeping globs of conditioner that he was certain he didn’t need, so the fact that the hair between his fingers and beneath his palm felt so course was a little unsettling.

“I-I-I-I-” Patton stuttered. He took in a quick breath, the air hitching on the way in, before attempting to speak again. “I-I-I’m s-sorry!”

Virgil froze. He felt himself go pale. He pulled away from Patton, grabbing the sides of his friend’s face and looking at him with wide eyes. Patton’s glasses were all crooked and dirty, his bottom lip bitten nearly to bleeding, his nose running and eyebrows pinched together.

“What?” he whispered, still staring.

“I’m sorry! I-I-I’m sorry f-for ig-ig-ignoring you and I’m s-sorry for nev-never saying anything and I’m sorry for writing on myself and I’m sorry for hurting you and taking you a-away from Ro-Roman a-a-and L-L-Logan and I’m sorry I’m crying and that I made you hate me and that I made you come over here for me a-a-a-and-”

Virgil sobbed.

Patton couldn’t have… no, he wouldn’t have hidden all this from Virgil, would he? He didn’t really think that Virgil hated him, right? Or that he was taking Virgil away from Roman and Logan? Of all the things in the world to worry about right now, one of the ones Patton had focussed on were Roman and Logan?

How had he let this happen?

“Patton… stop,” Virgil begged. “Please… please listen to me…”

Patton’s breath hitched and he hiccupped again, but he didn’t argue.

“I don’t hate you,” the older started. “I… I could never hate you. I love you. You’re my best friend, and you always have been. But I think I loved you as something more way before I knew you were my soulmate. I knew a long time ago that you were something special to me.”

Patton tried to hide in Virgil’s shoulder again, but the emo wasn’t having it. He felt Patton a little firmer, keeping direct eye contact with him.

“You aren’t taking me from Roman and Logan. They don’t own me. The three, er… four of us, may be soulmates, but they don’t own me, and knowing that you belong with us doesn’t change how I feel for them or you.”

Patton’s gaze flickered away from Virgil. “It… it doesn’t?” he asked, fighting off a hiccup.

Virgil nodded with a soft smile. “You’re everything to me, bug-a-boo.” He leaned and nuzzled the tip of his nose against Patton’s.

Patton couldn’t help himself but giggle through his tears and nuzzle back. Virgil never called him bug-a-boo. Not since they were really small and had kind of been making fun of how Patton’s cousin had once called him that.

“You-” hiccup, “you called me bug-a-boo…” Patton leaned back just slightly and smiled at Virgil.

“Yeah,” Virgil blushed, “I thought the situation called for it…”

Patton laughed.


	4. Part Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Virgil takes Patton back to his house and they talk. A little exercise ensues.

Virgil had gathered Patton up in his arms and stood them up, declaring that the younger was coming with him and spending the night at his house. Patton giggled a little, still teary, but nodded his head and agreed. Patton tucked his phone into his pocket and wiggled out of Virgil’s hold long enough to sprint up the stairs and grab his charging cable and house key before returning to the taller teen and leaving the house.

On the way to the Foley’s residence, he sent a quick text to his dad composed of heart eye emojis that stated he would be with Virgil. His father responded in record time, telling him to be good and take care of himself and “use protection ;)”. Patton had blushed and promptly closed the conversation without answering.

Virgil asked briefly and Patton answered, trying not to sound like he was going to die of embarrassment.

Virgil just laughed, and squeezed Patton’s hand quickly.

Once they were there, Virgil steered Patton through the living room and into the hallway, opening his bedroom door, and pushing him inside.

“When is the last time you changed your clothes?” Virgil asked, suddenly serious. Patton hesitated for a moment, more from Virgil’s firm change than anything else. He had changed his clothes when he knew Virgil was coming to get him.

“Uh, like twenty five minutes ago?” Patton said, watching his friend curiously.

Virgil nodded to himself. “Alright, in that case…” He grabbed Patton’s shoulders again, steering him back out of the room and directly across the hallway to the bathroom.

“You need to take a shower,” he said. “No, you don’t smell bad. It only bothers me because you haven’t taken care of yourself. You’ll feel better afterwards, and then we can’t cook something, eat, chill, whatever. Deal?”

Patton blinked. Then he smiled. “Deal.”

*

He didn’t really want to be alone right now, and he definitely didn’t want to be apart from Virgil at all. Patton had gone into the bathroom and turned on the shower, waiting for the water to warm up before it hit him.

He walked out of the bathroom, having just pulled his shit back into place.

“Hey, Virge?” he called down the hall.

“What?” he heard from the kitchen.

Patton found him on the counter, searching through the very top shelf of the cabinet.

“What are you doing?” Patton asked.

“I could ask you the same thing since I literally just told you to go take a shower. I’m looking for the singular box of spirals mac and cheese that I know we have.” Virgil moved another box, reaching back in and trying not to fall backwards.

Patton blushed, watching him. He liked the spiral shaped macaroni better than the elbow when he came to boxed mac and cheese. “Oh… uh, well…”

“What’s up, Pat?” Virgil turned his gaze to him momentarily before thinking better of it as he lost his balance.

“Would you… would you just… sit in the bathroom with me?” Patton asked.

Virgil didn’t respond right away and Patton almost thought he had spoken to quietly for him to hear. Then,

“Sure,” he mumbled. “If you want.”

Patton smiled, still blushing. “Okay.”

The older teen cleared his throat, giving up his search and climbing down from the counter. “You go get in and I’ll come sit with you in a minute, okay?”

Patton nodded, hurrying off down the hallway and into the bathroom again. He stripped quickly, tossing his clothes into a pile in the corner before pulling back the shower curtain and hopping into the steamy area. The curtain was pulled back into place and Patton stood there, his eyes closed.

Until he realized his glasses were still on.

“Shit,” he mumbled to himself, almost yanking them off as he heard a knock on the door, then the sound of it opening a little.

“Are you decent?” Virgil asked, then corrected with, “er, well, hidden?”

Patton laughed, a sweet, short bell like sound for just a second.

“Yeah, I’m hidden,” he teased. He stuck his hand out between the shower curtain and the wall, holding his glasses. “Can you put these somewhere, please?”

A hand brushed his and the glasses were taken from his grasp.

“How about the pile of your clothes on the floor?” Virgil teased gently. “They’ll be safe there.”

Sarcasm. Virgil was fantastic at it.

“Whatever,” Patton teased back.

*

Patton stayed in the shower for a long time. He liked the heat of it, and the pounding water reminded him of rain, which he loved. Virgil was willing to sit with him forever, if that’s what it came to, and he had said as much. Patton had assured him it wouldn’t be forever, but for the moment, he was just enjoying the tranquility of the moment.

Before it passed.

Then Virgil was asking, “Why didn’t you say anything?”

Patton had paused, stunned, and in an effort to avoid the topic, asked, “Say anything about what?”

Patton could almost hear the unimpressed look Virgil sent the shower curtain. “You know what I’m talking about.”

Silence. Then he took in a deep breath and sighed. “It’s… complicated…”

“So?” he was asked immediately. “‘Complicated’ doesn’t mean ‘unimportant’, you know.”

Patton sat down on the bathtub floor, laying his arm along the lip of the tub, and rested his head there.

“Virgil-”

“Please, Patton?”

“Do you remember in first grade? When you made that drawing of you and your parents?” Patton asked.

“Yeah…”

“I saw it before school… I loved it, and I wanted to show it to my mom, because I thought it was magic and awesome and everything else…”

“And?”

A sigh. “She didn’t think so. She yelled at me and took me by the arm to the bathroom and scrubbed at my skin. She kept yelling about how I should never draw on myself, how it was dangerous, and that I would get hurt or sick or something… I tried to tell her that I didn’t draw, it but she wouldn’t listen. I guess she finished scrubbing at my arm, I’m not sure, but she told me to go get dressed and to wear a long sleeved shirt. If anyone asked, I was supposed to tell them I fell down and got hurt or something.”

“Patton-”

“Then I saw you at school, and you had the same drawing on your arm. You displayed it proudly, and said something about soulmates, and how your parents would write to each other all the time… When I asked Mom about what you said later, she told me soulmates weren’t real. That they didn’t exist, they were imaginary. And I believed her…

“But I kept watching you draw. I would watch it show up on my arms at home, and then let you show me everything that you drew and everything you wrote, and every mark that came from Ro and Lo. I didn’t get it. Soulmates weren’t real, but there were still markings. You were real, I knew that. And if you were real, then the other two had to be real too, right?

“Sixth grade came along, and we had that… “soulmate learning day” or whatever they called it? I had so much fun, and I got to watch you be super excited about it and learning what little science is known behind soulmates and soulmarks. I went home and practically screamed at Mom. Called her a liar. She still insisted that soulmates weren’t real. I told her later that I hated her, which isn’t true… I do still love her, Virgil. She’s my mom, and despite the soulmate stuff, she’s never done anything that wasn’t in my best interest or because she loved me…”

“But-”

“But nothing, Virgil. I don’t want to debate about why I should or shouldn’t love or hate my mom. I do, end of story.” Patton glared at the plastic shower curtain that kept the pretty floral one from getting wet.

Virgil scrambled to back track. “I-I know that, Patton. I didn’t mean to challenge that-”

Patton sighed. “I know.”

They were silent for a minute or maybe it was just a few seconds, but it felt like it dragged on forever.

“So… then what?” Virgil asked near silently.

“I wanted to say something back then. I wanted to sprint over here and show you everything that littered my arms and confess everything. I wanted you to talk about me the way you talked about Logan and Roman, for you to look at me like I had hung the moon and set fire to the sun… Oh boy, that sounded so cheesy…” Patton laughed at himself almost bitterly. “But I didn’t. I went and hid in my room because I was crying, I was so angry. So I left it alone and continued wearing long sleeves like I had for years already, because it was easier. I had screwed up anyway, and there was no way to fix it. You were my best friend already, and I was okay with that.

“But Ro was Roman suddenly, and Lo was Logan because you guys had found each other on Facebook, and then we all got phones and you guys started texting all the time… and I had less of a reason to wear long sleeves. But I didn’t stop wearing them because I didn’t want to risk one of you writing on yourselves in the middle of the day and you seeing it…”

“We left you behind…” Virgil mumbled sadly, sympathetically.

Patton shook his head, knowing that it wouldn’t be seen. “I was never with you to begin with.”

“So… that’s why you didn’t show me your arms back in freshman year? Because you didn’t want me to see all the things we’d written?” Virgil asked.

Patton sighed. He remembered that incident. When Virgil had been convinced he was cutting himself of something, and Patton had refused to show him is arms based purely on the fact that he hadn’t known whether or not there was writing there that Virgil would recognize.

“I checked later… when I went to the bathroom in the middle of the night, and none of you had written anything that day, and I could have safely shown you, but… I don’t know… You had started paying such close attention after that, and I couldn’t afford to let you see anything…”

“Patton, that doesn’t make sense. I was paying close attention because I thought you were hurt. I-” Virgil argued.

Patton sat up straight just to sink back against the wall and slide onto his back on the floor, letting the water hit his chest. It wasn’t very comfortable, since he didn’t want to open his eyes because of the splatter from the water, but that was okay. He was better “hidden” now, and it made him feel safer.

“I thought that even if I did show you there was nothing there, you would still worry and ask about it again. What if you asked one day and I couldn’t show you because there was writing there or something? You’d assume that I really had started to hurt myself, and that could have ended even worse. As it is, I’m lucky you didn’t go to a teacher or your parents or someone and tell them you were worried about my health and safety!” Patton ranted.

Worrying was Virgil area of expertise, but Patton could be just as good. He did suddenly feel the overwhelming urge to put on a happy face as he always did and drop the conversation. It was making him upset, and he knew it was upsetting Virgil, so instinct told him to let it go and forget it ever happened.

“Then what made you suddenly write something now?” The tone he heard from the other side of the shower curtain wasn’t bitter or angry. It was genuinely curious and light in tone, placating.

“Impulse,” Patton said simply. “Dad said recently that I’ve loved you since before I knew what love really was. And I think maybe… I just wanted to take something about this situation into my own hands. And even if you rejected me or got angry, I had still finally said something…”

They fell into silence again. This time it lasted for a few minutes before Patton could hear Virgil shifting, standing from his position sitting cross legged on the floor.

“Finish in there, and then come find me. I have an idea,” he said, turning and leaving the room. His tone had been light and sort of mischievous, something Patton was relieved to hear from him.

“Okay,” he mumbled as the door shut again.

*

Virgil was beginning to boil water for the mac and cheese when Patton appeared from the hallway. His skin was pink from the hot water, his hair wet, but looked to be much softer than it had been previously, and he seemed to hold himself with a renewed vigour.

He was still wearing long sleeves.

“Do you even own any short sleeve shirts anymore?” Virgil asked teasingly. Patton smirked at him.

“Of course I do. I just wear jackets with them too.”

Virgil rolled his eyes. Patton would have to have skin on display for what he had planned.

“Do me a favor?” Virgil asked innocently. “Go to my room and grab a tank top for me, k?”

Patton nodded silently, disappearing back into the hallway.

He came back and Virgil left the kitchen, joining his friend in the living room. Patton tried to hand the shirt to Virgil, but he shook his head.

“You’re going to put it on,” Virgil stated with a soft smiled. Patton’s look of shock only lasted for a second before it was schooled away quickly.

“Uh… I dunno…”

“Please?” Virgil brought his hands up and rested them on Patton’s cheeks, pulling him a fraction of an inch closer. “Trust me,” he whispered.

Patton swallowed almost visibly. He handed the tank top to Virgil, making him take it, then reached and slowly pulled his shirt up over his head. They swapped shirts and Patton pulled on the borrowed tank.

He was a lot thinner than Virgil had originally thought.

“Good,” Virgil said. He took Patton’s hand and led him over to the craft area his mother kept in the corner of the “dining room” (read: the small area by kitchen counters that had a table and chairs squeezed into it).

One drawers in the rolling shelf unit was absolutely filled with a rainbow of skin safe markers. Virgil pulled it open and told Patton to pick one. After a moment of hesitation and then digging around in drawer, he pulled out an electric blue skin safe sharpie. Virgil smiled as Patton turned and presented the marker proudly.

Virgil nodded his head towards the couch and turned to walk over to it. He settled on the plush cushions as Patton made his way over. The older teen had spread himself out with his legs propped on the ottoman, spread wide enough for Patton to sit between them.

“Come here,” Virgil mumbled encouragingly. Patton hesitated again before he came closer and settled on the cushion, thinking for only a second before resting back into Virgil’s chest.

Virgil wrapped his arms around his friend’s middle, leaning his head forward and nuzzling his nose right behind Patton’s ear. The younger shivered, squirming away from the touch for a second with a clear little giggle.

“We’re gonna do something,” Virgil mumbled softly. Patton was sensitive to sound, so he didn’t want to talk to loudly right next to his ear. And Patton had to be relaxed for this.

“Writing on myself?” Patton guessed. He was smiling, but Virgil could hear the unsure tone his voice held.

“Talk to them,” he said. “It’s less about making marks on yourself and more about talking to Ro and Lo.”

Truth to be told, it really was a lot about Patton’s marking on himself. He was honestly so uncomfortable with himself, and it bothered Virgil. But Patton had never had this experience, saying something to your soulmates and waiting for them to respond back. Virgil honestly loved the experience, and Patton deserved to have it.

Patton deserved the world.

“What if they’re busy? What if they have school-”

Virgil shushed him gently, tightening his grip on Patton’s waist. “Logan’s homeschooled and passed all his classes and Roman’s on summer break. They’re not busy.”

Without much more prompting, Patton uncapped the marker and looked down at his exposed arm. **I’M HERE** was still there, just faintly gray on his skin. Any words written in… Azure blue were surely going to show up against it.

**Hi**

They waited a few seconds before another color joined, this time a black pen.

**Hello.**

Patton hesitated, then **Logan?**

Black pen, **Yes. Patton?**

**You could tell?**

**You don’t feel like Virgil or Roman.**

Oh

Suddenly a red pen was appearing amongst the blue and black.

**PATTON, MY LOVE!!! <3 <3 <3**

Patton “eep”ed and practically threw his marker cross the room, turning and burrowing in Virgil’s neck.

Virgil couldn’t help it, and he burst out laughing. He was practically cackling as Patton yelled and suddenly launched out of Virgil’s lap, picking up his marker from the floor and putting the cap back on it. There was a mark on the cream colored wall.

The older teen couldn’t care less about the marker mark on the wall. His soulmate had just made his boyfriend “eep” and hide in his neck-

Wait… boyfriend?

Virgil sobered quickly. Had he really just thought that? Had he just referred to Patton as his boyfriend? Oh god, Patton was going to hate him…

“It’s not funny, you jerk!” Patton cried from across the room.

Virgil looked at him momentarily before giggling and then full on laughing again. Patton kept yelling about how it wasn’t funny, and it kept making Virgil laugh harder, rolling all over the couch and clutching his stomach as it started to hurt.

Words kept appearing all over their arms in red.

**Patton?**

**Sweetheart?**

**Darling?**

**Pumpkin?**

**Sugar?**

**Dearest?**

Then in black…

**Bug-a-boo**

Patton screamed and ran back to Virgil’s bedroom, slamming and locking the door, yelling about how he was never speaking to Virgil again and was going to steal his hoodie to wear for the rest of his life.


	5. Part Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little snippet of summer vacation before Virgil and Patton head off to college, and a long anticipated (at least for me) first meeting.

Patton knew Virgil was awake when the pattern of his breath changed behind him. It was way too early in the morning to justify being awake during summer vacation, but that was fine. It wasn’t like they were going to get up yet. Maybe just lying awake together before the sun came up would be nice.

“Y’awake?” Virgil slurred on a yawn.

Patton smiled to himself before he shifted and turned, locking eyes with Virgil in the dark. Virgil smiled back at him.

“Why are you awake?” Virgil whispered.

Patton shrugged one shoulder, moving fully onto his other side. Virgil smoothed a hand up Patton’s sleeve covered bicep.

“Okay,” Virgil said. “What do you wanna do today?” He stifled a yawn behind his palm as Patton hummed to himself thinking.

“You know,” he started, “it is summer time. We should go swimming.”

His boyfriend hummed in agreement.

“We should. I know Grandma would like to see us before we leave for college next month. We’ll go to her house.”

Patton smiled widely. He nodded eagerly, reaching forward and winding his arms around Virgil’s neck as best he could. Virgil leaned into his touch easily, touching their foreheads together briefly before Patton kissed him, just the softest brush of lips.

That was still new. Virgil’s lips were soft, and maybe a teeny bit sticky because of his nearly excessive use of chapstick, but it still felt great. There were tingles and fireworks and-

Okay, maybe it wasn’t _exactly_ like that.

But Patton still loved it.

Virgil kissed him back, his hands finding their way to Patton’s lower back and pulling him closer.

“I love you,” Virgil mumbled against his boyfriend’s lips.

The younger giggled. “I love you too.”

Virgil kissed him again, suddenly more passion behind it. Patton gasped when the tip of Virgil’s tongue swiped across the seam of his lips.

“Okay?” Virgil mumbled quietly.

Patton nodded vigorously. He closed the space between them again just as a quick, sudden buzz sounded from the nightstand.

Patton groaned, loud and prolonged, pulling away from Virgil’s embrace and flopping on his back into the pillows. Virgil laughed at him. He shifted up onto his elbow and leaned back over Patton, kissing him again.

“It’s just a text…” He kissed Patton’s lips. “We can ignore it.”

Patton giggled, pulling out of the kiss. “But we shouldn’t.”

Virgil did his own one shoulder shrug.

He leaned further over Patton, reaching for his phone and checking it for a moment.

“What was it?” Patton asked when Virgil relaxed into the pillows again, phone in hand.

“Talyn texted me. Said that they plan on going over to Grandma’s with Thomas to swim some. They wanted to know if we wanted to come too.

Patton snorted. “I guess it’s a good thing we already planned on it. When are they getting there?”

Virgil tapped something out to his cousin before all but tossing the phone behind him onto the pillow.

“I guess we’ll just have to wait to find out.” He moved with a purpose again, straddling his boyfriend’s hips then leaning down and capturing his mouth in yet another kiss, his hands holding Patton’s head still.

Patton giggled, loving this playful side of Virgil. He’d always known it was there, but it came out less and less as they got older and Virgil’s anxiety worsened. But Patton, when he wanted to, had never failed to relax Virgil enough to get him to be just a little bolder than normal.

They continued their impromptu make out session for lord only knew how long, before there was a gentle knock at Virgil’s bedroom door. The older teen all but threw himself off a Patton, attempting to situate himself next to his boyfriend in the most innocent position possible before his mother poked her head into the room.

“Good morning, boys,” Mrs. Foley greeted smoothly. Her smile was soft and sweet, despite the fact she had yet to have her morning coffee. “I’m heading over to Milton’s to get donuts for breakfast. Any special requests?”

“Chocolate cream filled,” Virgil supplied after a second’s hesitation of thinking.

“Chocolate cake with sprinkles?” Patton asked shyly.

It was weird. He’d never been shy around Virgil’s parents before, but now that he was dating their son, it felt different.

“You got it,” she said, then leaned back out of the doorway, closing the door behind her with a soft click.

There was silence for a moment where Patton just looked around the room, noticing suddenly how much lighter their surroundings were.

“Well, I suppose this means we have to get up soon,” Virgil offered quietly. Then with a groan, he sat up and stretched, twisting from side to side to pop his back. He stood up and grabbed his jacket from where he’d tossed it over his desk chair. It might have been summer, but the air conditioning and the fans running in almost every room left the air a bit too cool for comfort. (Up until you walk outside and realize it feels like a mcfreaking sauna out there.)

“I guess…” Patton sighs through a smile. He stretches, still laying out on the bed, content to stay there in the warmth where everything smells like his boyfriend.

*

“Who’s ready to swim?” Thomas nearly yells, standing on the deck next to Talyn and Virgil.

“Me!” Talyn yells, then pretty much races to the side of the deep end and jumps in.

“Me…” Virgil says, sounding rather unenthusiastic. Thomas sends him a deadpan look.

“Wow, so much excitement,” he teases.

The sliding door behind them opens, and both turn to look. Patton steps out, wearing swim trunks that fall to his knees and a long sleeved swim shirt, the light blue fabric form fitting and leaving next to nothing to the imagination.

“Patton,” Thomas says before Virgil can, “it’s crazy hot out here. Take off the shirt.”

“I’ve always worn a shirt when swimming,” Patton defends, beginning to fidget.

The younger hadn’t looked self conscious before, but he certainly did now. He tugged at the hems of his sleeves, stretching them to cover his hands, then worrying at the bottom edge of the fabric.

“Yeah, but this summer has record breaking high temperatures. You’re going to have a heatstroke.”

“I…” Patton stammers. “I-I just don’t… don’t wanna burn or anything…”

“Duh, that’s what sunscreen is for, silly,” Thomas teases, walking closer to his cousin. “Come on, take it off.”

“I-I don’t want to-”

“You’re going to overheat.”

“No I won’t-”

“Yes, you will-”

“I’ll be okay, I’ll just drink lots of water and stay the pool a bunch and-”

“No, really, you are going to regret this decision-”

“Thomas, I can’t-”

“Why can’t you?”

“Because… there’s… I have…”

“Have what?” Thomas asked, a smile still on his face. Patton won’t look at him. “Skin?”

Patton shakes his head.

“Then what?”

The younger fidgets more for a few seconds. “Words…”

Thomas sends his cousin a confused look. “So does everyone else here.”

He gestures at his own arms, where there was a near rainbow of conversations form his soulmate. Talyn stood up in the shallow end of the pool, exposing their midsection where random little comments could be seen from their own soulmate. Even Virgil decided to take this opportunity to strip off his t-shirt, odd comments of ‘bug-a-boo’ and ‘stop writing on yourselves, it tickles and I need to sleep’ standing out clearly in red and black along his biceps.

The problem was… Those were there on Patton too. Virgil knew that. But Thomas and Talyn didn’t. Their parents knew, sure, because they’d kinda had to find out because of how Patton and Virgil had acted for those two and a half days after graduation, but extended family had yet to be included in the conversation.

Suddenly Virgil’s grandmother appeared through the sliding glass door onto the porch as well.

“Boys, I thought you four were ready to swim, and there’s Talyn, the only one in the water!” She laughed to herself, shaking her head at her grandson and his friends.

“Sorry, Gramma,” Virgil responded with a half smile.

“Oh, aren’t you cute, Virgil. Your soulmates really are adorable with all those petnames for you,” the older woman cooed at her grandson.

And that was when Virgil bit the bullet.

“They aren’t for me,” Virgil admitted. “They’re for someone else.”

“Oh?” she said, sounding interested, but not surprised. She had known that Virgil had multiple soulmates for years. It was common knowledge throughout the family. “Who’re they for?”

Virgil turned an expectant gaze on his boyfriend.

Patton huffed to himself. This was fine. It was okay. It’s just his cousin and his boyfriend’s cousin and grandmother. He could do this. They could know. They deserved to know. All three of them loved the both of them, so there’s no reason to hide it. Virgil knew now, and he loved Patton too, so he really didn’t have a reason to hide it-

He was overthinking this.

Without further hesitation, Patton grasped the hem of his swim shirt and tugged it up over his head, pulling it off and holding it in one hand.

There were a few surprised gasps.

“My goodness!” Virgil’s grandmother exclaimed. “You two are soulmates!”

No one else said anything for a second until the woman spoke up again as if she had never stopped.

“Of course, I had my suspicions. The two of you spend every waking second together, you obviously love each other, and- my goodness, this is the most skin I’ve ever seen Patton show! Are the two of you dating? You’re lucky to have each other, of course, though I wonder how Roman and Logan have been taking this? Roman seems to enjoy it highly, so I suppose that’s something. Are you going to change sleeping arrangements for college? I suppose you wouldn’t need to since you’re already going to be roommates. Have you told the admissions office about this, because they do have to know-”

“Grandma!” Virgil complained, trying and pretty much failing to keep the tug of a smile off his mouth.

“What?” she defended. “I know what I’m talking about, jitterbug.”

The woman walked over to the dark wicker coffee table/storage box they kept the pool towels in, opening it and pulling out her favorite yellow and pink one.

“Now, I’m going to go change into my own swimsuit. When I come out, I expect to see all four of you playing around in that pool. Got it?” she demanded, getting them all a pointed look, though it was immediately followed by a teasing sort of smile. The boys still standing on the patio nodded at her with a few “yes, Gramma”s. Then she disappeared back into the house.

Patton stood awkwardly before slowly looking over to his cousin. And there Thomas was, looking at him with a dopey smile on his face.

“What?” Patton asked, shrinking into himself.

“I knew it,” he said, gathering Patton up into his side and squeezing him in a one-armed hug. “Come on, lovebirds. You heard the lady! In the pool!”

The next thing Patton knew, Thomas had scooped him up into the air and hurried to the edge of the pool and tossed him into the water. His laugh was more of a shriek, and he had about two seconds to gasp in a breath and pinch his nose closed before going under.

He felt like that a lot.

But maybe that wasn't so bad.

*

The first week of classes was weird.

Patton and Virgil had moved into their dorm room a few days earlier than most of the freshmen. Virgil’s anxiety would have shot straight through the roof if they had come the same day as everyone else, and Patton was just too excited to wait. So early it was.

But classes were different. He had expected huge lecture halls filled a hundred other students, and sure, some of his classes will be like that, but plenty of them are in what seem to be regular classrooms with about 25-30 other people.

Now, his English class was definitely lecture hall type stuff. And thankfully, Patton had that class with Virgil. There weren't assigned seats, or at least not yet? He wasn't sure. His professor seemed nice, but Patton was a little lost. But either way, he and Virgil tried to stay in the same area of the lecture hall to create a sense of normalcy.

In their fourth class, they much have sat a few rows closer to the front than the usually did. Patton could only tell because when he looked up from his phone, there was a kid with short, dark brown hair sitting in the row ahead of them.

This guy always wore a black or dark blue polo and dark wash jeans, but that was about all Patton knew about the way he looked. Polo Guy was either already sitting in the same seat by the time they got there, or he somehow managed to find his seat without being noticed. Patton had never seen Polo Guy’s face. But today they were right behind him.

He couldn't figure out why he was so focussed on some kid he had never met before, or why he was interested, but he was. And today, it was so much worse. And maybe it was because something about the back of Polo Guy’s head was so familiar, or the black arms of the glasses that must have rested on his face.

No, leave it alone. He had to pay attention class right now. Professor Gilligan was going to start soon, and Patton couldn't be focussed on Polo Guy’s soul mark on the back of his hand. It was this curvy handwriting in red pen that said “happy almost weekend!”.

That’s funny…

That same mark was on the back of Patton’s right hand. Roman wrote it this morning.

Oh god…

Patton scrambled for his pen.

**Lo?**

Polo Guy in front of him shifted and looked down at his arm. Then he reached and seemed to write something.

**I’m in class, Pat.**

**Me too**

Polo Guy seemed to sigh.

**What can I help you with, then?**

Patton waited a second before writing back. He needed to be completely ready for this. That was when he noticed Virgil watching him curiously.

His boyfriend mouthed “What?” at him. Patton smiled coyly, pointing to Polo Guy with the end of his pen.

**Turn around**

Polo Guy went ramrod straight.

**Patton, don't fu**

**Just look behind you**

Patton didn't let Logan finish. (The F word is bad.) But he was excited. It was basically confirmed at this point that Polo Guy was Logan.

Patton waited, nearly vibrating in his seat, his left hand now closed around Virgil’s wrist in a death grip.

Slowly, a familiar face turned and looked up at them with hesitant brown eyes.

Logan.


	6. Part Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The immediate outcome of Virgil and Patton meeting Logan.

“Gentlemen?”

Three pairs of eyes were drawn to the professor down in front of the lecture hall.

“Thank you. Good morning, everyone!”

At that second, Logan shoved his laptop and folder of papers back into his bag with a lot of force, hauling the strap up over his shoulder and standing from his seat harshly. With that, he sent one last glance at Virgil and Patton before rushing from the hall with his head ducked down low.

“Um, excuse me, Mr. Johnson? Where are you going?” Dr. Picani asked. Logan paused by him momentarily.

“I-I’m sorry, Doctor. I-I just… I… I’m sorry.” Then he was walking away again, heading for the door.

“Alright, well. I would appreciate if you email me and visit during office hours! Thank you!” he called as the door closed behind him.

There was silence for a split second as Picani collected himself. Then he focussed his gaze on Patton and Virgil.

“Mr. Foley, Mr. Tate? Could you join me down here, please?” He lifted a hand and motioned them forward. Virgil glanced at Patton, still slightly confused. They gathered their items and stood, walking briskly down the isle of stairs towards their professor.

“Gentlemen?” Picani started gently. “Any idea what that was about?”

Virgil looked to Patton expectantly.

Patton hesitated silently. Would Logan be okay with their professor knowing that they’re soulmates? Should he make something up? Lie? Tell the truth…

“Logan… he’s-” Patton sighed. “He’s our soulmate…”

He held out his arm for Picani to see the words there.

It was a few seconds before the older man looked back at them.

“Did you just meet him?”

Patton nodded. He couldn’t find it in him to look his teacher in the eyes. He’d just met Logan and… and Logan was running. He’d stared at Patton and Virgil like he’d never seen them before. Like they were some terrible omen that meant something akin to death.

Picani sighed, removing his glasses and rubbing his hand over his eyes. “Oh boy… well…. You two are excused from class. Visit during office hours, and please… go talk to Logan. He seemed like he’ll need the two of you before too long.”

They nodded vigorously, agreeing and turning to leave.

*

“Virgil, I thought Logan was younger than us?” Patton said urgently. “He was a year behind us in school, right?”

Virgil looked around frantically. “I… he is younger than us, Patton. He should have been behind us in school. But I also told you that he was homeschooled. He never actually told me what grade he was in, because he said he wasn’t quite sure.”

“Alright… so… call him.”

“You think he’ll answer?” Virgil’s voice was sinking lower, a sure sign of panic. Patton turned to him quickly.

“Alright, hold up.” He reached and placed his hands gently on Virgil’s biceps. “As much as I would love to run off and find Logan, but you? You’re panicking, and that makes you my top priority.”

Virgil shook his head and pulled away, reaching up and carding his fingers through his hair. Patton was left with his hands hanging in the air for a second where his boyfriend had been standing.

“No. No, no, no, Patton, you don’t understand. Logan… Logan’s panicking. I know he is. I know him, Pat. He’s… Logan doesn’t…” Virgil blew out a breath harshly.

Patton didn’t know what to do. He… really didn’t know much about Logan. Not the way that Virgil knew Logan. But he did know Virgil. And this was a lot of stress. Virgil did not deal with stress very well.

“Is he going to be in danger?” Patton asked quietly.

Virgil hummed to himself, doing a little spin on his heels before coming back to face Pat.

“No…”

“Then let’s give him the evening to be alone. You’ll text him, okay? And we’ll try and meet up tomorrow or something. But for tonight, we’ll just let him think through things by himself. Logan’s good at that, isn’t he?”

Virgil nodded.

“Alright, let’s… let’s just head back to the dorm, okay? Are you hungry?”

A hesitant shrug followed by a seemingly questioning nod.

“Okay. Do you want to pick something up on the way, or have some ramen?”

Shrug.

“Ramen it is.” Patton placed a hand on Virgil’s back, guiding him forward by his side towards their dorm. “Besides, it’s cheaper anyway. And we’re poor college students.” He whispered the last part into Virgil’s ear.

Patton was rewarded with a huff of air from his boyfriend. That was about all he could ask of Virgil when he’d started going nonverbal.

*

Princey @ 10:32 | OMGOODNESS DID PATTON MEET LOGAN????

Vee @ 11:02 | we both did

Princey @ 11:02 | OMG HOW?

Vee @ 11:03 | calm down Princey. nothing happened. he took one look at us and bolted

Princey @ 11:03 | what?! Why’d he do that?

Vee @ 11:06 | I don’t know… he won’t answer my texts

Princey @ 11:07 | do you want me to call him? See what’s going on?

Vee @ 11:10 | no? Patton said we should probably just leave him alone for tonight and see if he wants to meet up tomorrow…

Princey @ 11:10 | I don’t know, Vee… Logan doesn’t do well by himself. You know that.

Vee @ 11:10 | still…

Princey @ 11:11 | 11:11! Make a wish!

‘I wish Logan would talk to me,’ Virgil thought to himself.

Princey @ 11:12 | Okay, but seriously… are you going to talk to him?

Vee @ 11:12 | I… I dunno, Ro…

Princey @ 11:13 | I’ll talk to him

Princey @ 11:13 | if you want me to, that is

Princey @ 11:13 | it was your guys’ meeting, after all. I wouldn’t want to impose

Princey @ 11:14 | but remember, you do know Logan better than Patton does…

Princey @ 11:21 | Virgil?

Vee @ 11:22 | but Patton knows me…

*

Roman stared at his phone. He knew Virgil… didn’t he? Virgil wanted this, Roman was sure. He was excited to meet his soulmates. Hesitant, maybe, but excited. And for him to find out he had a third soulmate in Patton, the guy he’d honest to god fallen in love with by the time they were thirteen, Virgil had been over the moon.

But Patton knew Virgil better, Roman supposed now that that must be true.

He was a fool to think that he could know him the way anyone else might…

*

Logan sat at his computer, his phone thrown on his bed, forgotten, his laptop open to Skype. He knew that he should talk to Virgil, or hell, even Patton, but… he just couldn’t bring himself to do it. He’d seen the excitement in Patton’s eyes, spreading all over his features into the biggest grin Logan had ever seen, and the confusion in Virgil’s eyes. The shock, how startled he was, but also that backing of love Logan recognized from the past few years.

And it was all just… too much.

Too much… too much, too much too much TOO MUCH-

Breathe.

In for four seconds.

Hold for seven seconds.

Out for eight seconds.

In four…

Hold seven…

Out eight…

Four.

Seven.

Eight.

Something wet and hot slipped down Logan’s cheek. When had he closed his eyes? He opened them, his vision blurrier than it usually was without his glasses…

Except… except that he was still wearing them.

Oh.

He was crying.

And then the tears just started coming faster.

What was wrong with him?


	7. Part Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patton attempts to fix the situation in a not so good way, and Virgil and Roman devise a plan to fix everything. It works, but not the way it was supposed to.

Logan wasn’t in class the next time. Or the time after that.

Not even a week later.

Or another after that.

“Logan?” Dr. Picani affirmed curiously when Patton approached him about his other student. “He transferred out of this class and into another one of mine. Said he had a scheduling issue that needed resolved.”

*

“A scheduling issue?” Virgil was sick in their dorm room that day. He’d been puking so violently all night that he had hardly slept, and in all honestly, neither had Patton. But they at least made an effort to make sure that one of them was always in their shared classes.

“That’s what Picani said…”

Virgil went silent for the span of a minute, before coming back with, “I don’t believe a single word of that.”

Patton shook his head. “Oh, come on, Virge! I’m sure that Logan has his reasons-”

“Has he responded to any of our texts? Or calls?”

“Well-”

“You literally wrote him a letter and mailed it to his dorm. Nothing came of that, either.”

“I mean-”

“He’s talking to Roman.”

Patton paused. He could feel the color drain from his face. “He… what?”

Virgil huffed. “Logan’s been talking to Roman. Frequently.”

Patton tried to brush it off. Tried to smile. “Roman’s an easy guy to talk to…”

Virgil cocked one eyebrow skeptically, but on his slightly green face, it ended up looking just a little nauseous. “He is… Have you talked to Roman recently?”

Patton could feel his throat tightening painfully. It wasn’t a good feeling. The kind of almost burning sharpness that comes right before you start crying. “Yeah, a few times…”

But not often. Really only a couple of times.

Roman doesn’t want to talk to him.

He hadn’t said as much but… it was kind of obvious. Roman could be an extremely good actor when he wanted to, but he seemed to be perfectly okay with letting Patton know where he stood right now. It was not on his good side.

“Why do you think Roman would only talk to two of his soulmates?”

“He… he talks to me…”

“Why would Logan only talk to one?”

“I-”

“Pat, admit it…” Virgil had to pause, fighting down the urge to vomit again. “We screwed up…”

*

Patton couldn’t take it. He knew that his advice had been pretty bad. Roman and Virgil had been right. Logan shouldn’t have been left alone right after class that day. But honestly, Patton thought he’d been doing what was right. Virgil needed the most immediate attention… or so he’d thought.

He… didn’t know nearly enough about Logan and Roman… There’s only so much you can learn about two people when you hear about them second hand through someone else. Even if those conversations were written on your own goddamn arms…

Roman was mad at him.

Logan was… something.

And Virgil…

Oh, Virgil was not happy.

Patton had certainly fucked this one up.

*

Two days later, a switch had flipped in Patton again. He’d made a mistake, telling Virgil he was his third soulmate. Patton should have known better than that. The existing relationship was already too well developed. It had no room for a fourth person, even if he was meant to be with them by some higher power.

So he’d try to undo what he’d done. He’d pull back again. Wear long sleeves, a habit which he had hardly even started to break, so it was no problem to go back. He wouldn’t contact Logan or Roman. He’d break up with Virgil. They could be friends, but they wouldn’t be boyfriends…

They’d be happier this way. Without him.

They always had been before.

*

“Say… say that again?”

Patton didn’t want to. He loved Virgil, loved him more than anything in the world. And this was killing him on the inside. It was like swallowing razor blades, letting them shift around and cutting him up.

“We… I… I’m b-breaking up with you…”

Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry!

“Pat-”

“I understand if you want to find a new roommate. At the end of the semester, you can stay here and I’ll… I’ll leave.”

The room was silent.

“Why are you doing this?”

What was he supposed to say?

“This… this was a mistake. For all of us.”

*

Patton never did start planning to move out. Virgil wouldn’t let him. He kept begging Patton for a reason why they’d broken up.

But one never came.

Eventually, Virgil would realize that this was better for all of them. One day, Logan would start talking to him again, and they’d be back to normal. Just like they had been for the past ten odd years.

*

_“He… he what?!”_ Roman yelled over the line.

Virgil winced. “He broke up with me, Ro…”

_“You’ve got to be kidding…”_

“Why the hell do you think I would joke about this, Prince?” Virgil growled.

_“Woah, slow down there, tall, dark, and handsome.”_

“Roman, you have exactly half a second to cut it out with the fucking nicknames, or so help me, I will find you, wherever you are, and beat you senseless.”

_“...message received.”_

“Good. Now, for the love of god, help me figure out why my childhood best friend and soulmate just decided out of the fucking blue to break up with me, hide his soulmarks again, and pretend like we were never soulmates to begin with!”

_“Maybe he finally-”_

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence, because you and I both know for a fucking fact you don’t mean it.”

The line was silent. _“You’re right…”_

Virgil gasped a heaving breath, trying to fill his lungs that almost felt like they were going to explode. There were fat, hot tears falling down his cheeks like little streams, soaking his skin and dripping onto the front of his jacket. He’d wrapped himself up in it, not because he was cold, but because he’d let Patton borrow it recently, and it still kinda smelled like him. And Virgil liked the memory of sewing on the plaid purple patches with his best friend.

“Ro, please-” Virgil begged.

_“No, no, come now, Virgil. I… I’m sure we can fix this-”_

“How?!”

_“I… I don’t really know…”_

*

A week later, Roman finally had a suggestion. And not just a suggestion, a full fledged plan.  
Virgil would try to act as normal as he could around Patton. They’d talk about light, little things. They’d watch movies, go get lunch together, and Virgil would do his outright best to keep casual contact with Patton. Then, once they’d fallen into a routine, Virgil would ask Patton to go to dinner with him. Do not bring up the intention of a date, but plan it for somewhere nice-ish so that they had to dress up just a little bit. Go to dinner, have a nice time, keep Patton relaxed, maybe turn on the romance just a little bit if Virgil could get away with it. Really butter him up. Then towards the end of dinner, bring up the soulmate thing. Tell Patton he loves him, express genuine need for his company, and undeniable concern for his well being. After that, Patton will spill his guts to Virgil, they’ll kiss, and ride away into the sunset to live happily ever after.  
The whole thing almost made Virgil want to puke, because it seemed overly sappy, especially for his own taste. But this was Patton they were talking about. Patton loved movies and hand holding and romance and dates and… Virgil was willing to bear it for him.

Virgil wanted his Patton back.

*

The plan was going swimmingly until the movies and contact portion of it. That was when they jumped the gun a little bit.

It was Friday night. Patton had cooked them something in the dorm’s little public use kitchen downstairs, and it had been really good, even if Virgil’s appetite was nowhere to be found. The leftovers sat in tupperware in the little mini fridge they’d bought together from a neighbor’s garage sale last summer.

Virgil had chosen Up to watch that night. It was a cute little story, and Patton always loved the bright colors that were a common theme throughout the movie. Virgil liked the heartwarming story and how it seemed to put him at ease.

Of course… they’d both forgotten about the opening sequence.

Virgil didn’t cry easily at movies. He cried during some panic attacks, but not generally at other things. Patton, however, cried very easily. At everything. (He’d been crying at night. Virgil would pretend to be listening to music or some video on YouTube, but really he’d just be listening for when Patton would start crying. And then he’d war with himself whether or not the other would want him to go over and comfort him. He never did.) So he’d be sobbing within a few minutes, Virgil was sure.

It came a lot sooner than expected.

_“Do you think you have what it takes to be in an exclusive club? Well, do you?!”_

_“What’s the matter? Cantchya talk?”_

_“Hey… I don’t bite…”_

Virgil was laying on his back, his head propped up on the arm rest, Patton laying on his chest, semi uncomfortably, but that was mostly just because of the stiffness that existed in Patton at the moment. They hadn’t cuddled like this in weeks.

As soon as Ellie muttered on screen that she didn’t bite, Virgil felt something hot and wet soaking into his shirt. He could feel Patton’s trembles under the hold he had on his back.  
“Patton?” Virgil whispered.

There was a sad whimper in the quiet of Ellie giving Carl a purple soda cap pin.

“Pat… what’s wrong?”

“I bite…”

“You… you bite?”

“I bit you…”

Okay, yeah, Virgil wasn’t following. Patton hadn’t bitten him since that one time when they were play fighting as kids and Virgil had bitten him back, harder.

“Patton, sweetie, I don’t understand-”

“I made Logan run away, and I made Roman mad at me, and I broke up with you, but you’re still living with me, and cuddling me and watching Up and-” He kept mumbling other things that just kept getting quieter and quieter until they were unintelligible sobs muffling themselves into Virgil’s chest.

But the point was clear.

Patton was upset by the entire situation, which Virgil had known anyway. He had seen the heartbreak in Patton’s eyes the day he’d broken up with him. Virgil could tell that he was doing this out of some sense of misplaced responsibility rather than the want to be away from them.

“Pat… why did you break up with me?”

“Because you would be happier without me…”

Wha-

“The three of you could go back to the way you used to be. You guys didn’t know you had another soulmate, and you were happy that way. But every since I told you, you don’t talk to Logan and Roman as much anymore, and Logan ran away from us in class, and I told you to leave Logan alone because I don’t know a damn thing about it, and Roman tried to tell you otherwise, but you listened to me and now he’s mad at me because I hurt Logan so much, and you’re hurting too, and Roman doesn’t want to talk to me at all-”

“Pat… Patton, please stop…”

Patton went silent save for his distressed sniffles and sobs.

“This isn’t your fault.”

“But-”

“It’s not. It’s not yours or mine or Roman’s or Logan’s either. No one is to blame. Roman’s talked to me about Logan, he’s just freaked out. Logan doesn’t like people, and he’s had his own anxieties about meeting us for years that he didn’t tell us about. So to meet both of us at the same time was very overwhelming. Roman is very passionate, and I think he was a bit hurt by something I said, and he started to take that out on you, but he doesn’t feel that way. They… they love you, Pat. I love you. More than anything.”

“You’re just saying that-”

“Did you know that we speculated that we had another soulmate for years? We didn’t write on ourselves about it, because we figured that the other was scared or maybe a lot younger than us and couldn’t write or read as well or something. But we could feel that… just the three of us wasn’t complete. It wasn’t all of us. And you should have seen the way Logan and Roman reacted when I talked to them about you when we were younger. They wanted to talk to you too, but I told them you were pretty quiet, and easily spooked. Which even they said was odd coming from me.

“Roman called me the night of graduation and the first thing I heard from him was a scream of “I KNEW IT!”. He was so excited that it was confirmed, we had another soulmate. He nearly fainted when I said it was you. Logan started pulling out bunches of statistics and whatnot, but he was so, so over the moon.

“They love you, Patton. More than that, they adore you. We just happen to be in a very sticky situation where too many of us have crazy anxiety, and plenty of us are passionate as hell about everything in life, whether they be good or bad things.

“And you are not a bad thing.”

Patton whimpered.

“My dear, you’re the best thing that ever happened to us.”


	8. Part Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Virgil has a very serious conversation with Patton.

“Hey, Pat,” Virgil greeted as he stepped into their dorm room and dropped his bag into his desk chair.

Patton lifted his head from his textbook and smiled at him. Life was better when they were talking. “Hey, Virgil.” Then he looked back down at his work, hoping against all hope that he could start to make this equation make some sort of sense.

It didn’t.

Five minutes later, after Virgil had supposedly settled at his desk to do some work of his own, Patton heard a very resigned sigh and a heavy thump.

Virgil had let his head drop to the open book before him, his forehead now resting against black lettering.

“Something giving you trouble?” Patton asked. Depending on the subject, he might know dead nothing about it, but he was still willing to try. Besides, maybe they’d get distracted and forget about their school work altogether for the evening. Patton was a little fed up with homework, and none of it was pressing for the moment.

“Yeah,” Virgil agreed, his head still down.

“Well, what is it? Maybe I can-”

“It’s not school work, Pat…”

Virgil lifted his head to look at his soulmate. Looking into his brown eyes, so dark they were nearly black, Patton was suddenly aware of a vague nagging in his chest. Some resigned, heavy burden he was sure wasn’t his.

Patton gave the older teen a look he hoped expressed his concern and confusion.

Virgil sighed heavily, leaving his chair and coming to kneel on the floor at the foot of Patton’s bed. He folded his arms up on the edge of the mattress, covered as it was in a brightly patterned comforter, then rested his chin on them.

“We gotta talk about something…”

Dread. Pure dread.

It was cliche and stupid to feel so utterly awful when someone said that, but there it was. He was suddenly jumpy, wanting to sit up from where he had been laying on his stomach. It’s not that he didn’t want to have a conversation… He just didn’t want to have a conversation that had Virgil all… down.

And that was the problem, wasn’t it? Oh, no, it must be. They hadn’t gotten “back” together as boyfriends yet and that must mean that even though Patton was feeling better about his place with him, he didn’t want to be with them still. Virgil was probably finally taking him up on his offer to move out and find a different roommate. Honestly, who would want their almost functional, useless, non-boyfriend of a best friend turned soulmate to live with them all the time?

“It’s about… therapy…”

Wait…

“Therapy?”

“Yeah.”

“Your therapy?”

“No, you _starting_ therapy…”

“...I _haven’t_ started therapy?”

Another sigh. “I know, Patton. That’s my point.”

Patton was silent for a time, his eyes drifting down to his bedspread where he rubbed his fingers along a patch of yellow fabric. He didn’t need therapy, right? He felt… well, maybe not fine, but he felt the same way he’d felt for years, so he most certainly didn’t feel different. If anything, most of the time spent with Virgil after telling him they were soulmates has been the best time of his life. He hasn’t felt better than this since… a long time ago.

He shook his head. “I don’t need, therapy, Virge.” He tried to throw in a comforting, soft smile to persuade him.

“Except there are a lot of factors in our situation saying that you might.”

Patton scoffed, losing just a little bit of patience. He wasn’t angry, but he was more than a little frustrated. Virgil saw potential dangers around every corner, but usually they were at least a little founded. Or, no, that wasn’t true. But the point still stands that there couldn’t possibly be anything about this that said he needed therapy!

“Okay,” he said, finally sitting up and crossing his arms over his chest. “Name one.”

Virgil stood back up.

“At the age of six, you were told soulmates weren’t real, which was a blatant lie, and you believed it. Your mother physically hurt you, knowing full well that the drawing on your arm was not your fault. You were told that if anyone asked why you had a bandage on under long sleeves, you were to tell them you hurt yourself somehow. Then you wore long sleeves and long pants for eleven years. You convinced yourself that your three, count them, three soulmates would be better off without you. This situation got so bad that in freshman year, you didn’t speak a word for an entire week, and I wound up nearly violating your personal space to prove that there weren’t cuts on your arms. Then a few months ago, when you finally worked up the courage to say anything, and I hesitated for just a few seconds too long, you had a mental breakdown that lasted two and a half days until I had to come get you, calm you down, and all but force you to take a shower and eat something.”

Patton almost couldn’t believe his ears. Virgil was… lord, he knew Virgil was sassy, but this was just straight up biting. Sure, those were legitimate examples, but they didn’t add up to the conclusion of needing therapy! Patton wasn’t… he wasn’t…

No. Virgil wasn’t crazy, and he went to therapy. Virgil needed therapy. Without it… Patton knew exactly what Virgil would be like without it.

No, needing therapy does not make him crazy.

“I…”

“Pat,” Virgil said softly, his tone changing in an instant. His arms dropped from where he’d crossed them as he stepped forward to kneel on the bed in from of Patton. “I’m not saying we’re going to drop everything and go right now. Or, that you get no say in this. I’m saying it might be something we should try taking a look at.”

Patton’s arms dropped to his sides, Virgil’s hands reaching to take his own. He looked down at his knees.

“I’m not… broken, Virge…”

The older shushed him. “No, no, you’re not.”

He pulled him into a firm, warm embrace.

“But maybe… we’re in over our heads here, Pat. Four of us is gonna be a challenge. Especially with anxiety disorders and depression and… trauma… We need a little help to stay afloat…”

Patton didn’t respond, so Virgil kept going.

“You’d know better than anyone about just floating, don’t you? After all, you were my first safety line. Right?”

Patton let out a choked sob into Virgil’s shirt. He nodded just a little bit. Patton had been the reason Virgil had told his parents about his anxiety in the first place, and started the conversation about seeking professional help.

“Right. So how about we calm down right quick, put this on the back burner, and come back to it soon. Alright?”

Patton nodded.

*

_Rrrring_

_Rrrring_

_Rrrring_

_“Hey, Pattoncake!”_

“Hi, Uncle Emile.”

_“How’s dorm life? Giving it the old, college try?”_

Patton chuckled a little. He was sitting alone in their dorm room. Virgil was gone at class. He didn’t know this phone call was happening.

“Uh, yeah… It’s good.”

_“Uh oh, what’s the gloom I hear in your voice?”_

Patton swallowed. “I need to talk to you about some stuff, and see what you say…”

_“Stuff like… uncle stuff? Or doctor stuff?”_

“M-mostly doctor stuff… But I wouldn’t say no to some uncle stuff either…”

His uncle’s voice softed, lowing to its calming, low tone that it takes on when he’s trying to be soothing. _“Sure, sweetie. I’m only twenty minutes from your campus. Want me to come pick you up? We can get some take-out or something?”_

Patton nodded, fully aware that the older man couldn’t see him. “I’d like that, Uncle Emile.”

_“Sure, kiddo. I need to finish up some paperwork, but I’ll be there within a half hour. Anywhere you wanna meet?”_

“You know Insomnia Cookies?”

He could hear the smile in the man’s voice. _“Sure thing. I’ll see you there.”_

*

The light wasn’t on when Virgil got back. Which was interesting, because Patton had told him this morning that he would be waiting for him when class was over. Or… he might be up in Virgil’s bed taking a nap, because he did that sometimes. Virgil dropped his backpack into his desk chair, stepping forward and climbing up a step or two on his ladder, just to find his bed empty, his blankets still unmade from that morning.

“Hmm…” Virgil hummed to himself.

This wasn’t like Patton. He always told Virgil when plans changed. He sent a text, or he called or…

Virgil pulled out his phone, checking his messages. Nothing.

Okay, now he was getting worried.

No, no. Maybe he just went out to grab lunch. It was two in the afternoon, but it was possible. Patton didn’t always eat within the “lunchtime” time frame. He said it was too close to breakfast and wasn’t hungry enough by then to bother eating yet.

Might as well call him. That would make sense. Right?

The line rang.

And rang.

And rang some more.

Just when he was sure it was going to go to voicemail, the line picked up.

_“Virgil?”_

Now he could breathe easier. Patton sounded okay. “Hey, Pat.”

_“What’s going on? Are you okay?”_ His voice took on an almost panicky tone.

“What? Yeah, I’m fine.” Virgil answered quickly. No need to worry Patton when things were just starting to get back to… well, their new normal. “I just… you said you would still be here after my class, and you know, when I get back and you’re nowhere-”

_“Oh, god, Virge! I am so sorry! Something came up! I’m out with my uncle right now-”_

“Which uncle?”

_“Emile.”_

That means that he either took Virgil’s advice to think about counseling, or he pulled a Patton and did something off the freaking wall and just flew by the seat of his pants. Because that did occasionally land him in situations, while not unsafe, unpredictable by others.

“Oh. Okay, well, uh, have a nice time.”

_“Thank you, my kooky cookie! I’ll be back soon. We can chill for a little while before my class at five. Cool?”_

“Yeah, sure. Love you-”

Oh no…

_“Yay! Love you too! Bye!”_

“...Bye.”

*

It was two thirty when their dorm room door opened again, revealing Patton with a bright look on his face. He was wearing a t-shirt, layered over a long sleeve shirt. It had been getting fairly chilly outside. But his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, words standing out, clear as day.  
He had gotten better in the few months before the break up about wearing clothes that show off some of his skin. He only did it in their dorm room, usually only alone or with Virgil. Granted, that a flew straight out the window about a month ago, but today was the first time he’d done something like this.

In some private way, Virgil was proud of him.

“Virgil!”

That was the only warning he received before there was a body landing on him, arms wrapping around his shoulders and holding tightly. The wind was knocked out of him, his lungs seemingly forgetting how to breathe for a hot second as his arms came up automatically to wrap around Patton was well.

“Geez,” he wheezed once he’d regained his breath. “A little warning next time, Pat?”

“I gave you warning!” Patton defended, sitting up straight, straddling Virgil’s lap. “I yelled your name!”

Virgil huffed, trying not to laugh. “That’s not quite sufficient, but alright. You get a pass for today.”

Patton smiled sweetly at him. Then on impulse, he leaned down and pressed their mouths together briefly, only backing off enough to let their foreheads rest against one another.

They stayed like that for a minute or two, both smiling, their eyes closed. Patton’s hands rested on the sides of Virgil’s face sliding down over his jaw and along his neck to his shoulders. It was an incredibly intimate moment, one that Virgil was hesitant to break.

But eventually, he had to.

“So, how’s your uncle?” Virgil asked softly, moving his hands to Patton’s waist, smoothing over his sides overtop of his shirts.

Patton hummed. “He’s good. I asked him to meet me at Insomnia Cookies.”

Virgil groaned animatedly. Insomnia Cookies. Best. Place. Ever. Not only were their cookies fantastic, but they would deliver boxes of them to you. Beautiful, beautiful people.

“Good choice,” Virgil agreed. “Any particular reason for the meeting?”

Patton went quiet and Virgil suddenly wondered if he should have asked at all.

After a moment, Patton sighed and pulled away from Virgil, falling back to sit on the older’s legs where they were crossed. The freckled teen wouldn’t quite look at him, but he didn’t seem upset at all.

“I… thought about what you said the other day…” Patton muttered self consciously. “About getting some help…”

“Uh huh?”

“And, I know he won’t take me on as a patient because I’m family, but I figured he would at least give me some advice on where to start or maybe what exactly I’m looking at, you know?” Patton continued, looking up at Virgil again.

Virgil nodded, saying, “yeah, sure.”

“But, he gave me some recommendations, said there’s even a few people on campus we could go to-”

“We?”

Patton stuttered to a halt in an instant.

Wrong thing, wrong thing to say, Virgil. You shouldn’t have made it sound like that, now he thinks you don’t want to help him with this-

“I… yeah…” Patton muttered. “Do you- I mean… Did you not-”

He blew out a rather frustrated breath, his head bowed again, eyes focussed on his hands, fingers twisting in his lap.

“You don’t have to do this with me. It’s my problem, I’ll deal with it.”

Virgil sighed.

Stay calm. Stay calm, Virgil. The last thing you need right now is to freak him out more.

“Patton, honey,” He smoothed his hands up the exposed skin of Patton’s arms and back down to clasp his hands between his own. “I didn’t mean it like that. It just kinda slipped out.”

“Then-”

“Do you want me to go with you?”

Patton’s eyes locked on him without hesitation. “Of course I do. This is… it’s about me, but it’s for us. For you and me, and for Roman and Logan, when he get them on board… right?”

Virgil smiled at him. “Right. Of course you’re right.”

Patton smiled back at him shyly.

“But,” Virgil continued, “I want you to know that you don’t have to start counseling for us. You do it for you, no one else.”

“I know, I know it’s for me. I want this, I do. But I also want to do this for you guys. For any relationship the four of us will have in the future.”

Virgil hummed happily. “I’m proud of you, sweetie.”

Patton grinned wide and happily. He leaned back up and touched his forehead to Virgil’s. They giggled together breathily, Patton’s fingers running over Virgil’s cheeks, feeling skin covered in a light layer of foundation. If Patton focussed on Virgil’s cheekbones, he could see light freckles that he loved so much.

“Are we just going to sit here until you have to leave for class, or…”

Patton just laughed and pushed Virgil down on bed playfully.


	9. Part Nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Logan agrees to talk to Patton.

Logan looked down at his arm when he felt a faint tickling sensation there. He’d worn a regular t-shirt that day, which allowed his skin to be fully visible. That was fine. He’d never had a problem with people seeing his soulmarks. His older sibling and father had always encouraged him to talk to his soulmates, even if he wasn’t much of the talking type. Or, not for casual conversations. If someone got him talking on a tangent about something he was really into, like Astronomy or Chemistry, then all bets were off.

But the tickling felt different from what he was used to. When Roman wrote it felt… well, strong. Roman felt like the color red in which he often wrote. He felt like passion and drama. He felt like a force a nature to be reckoned with. Logan didn’t know if that even made sense, but he figured that on some level, it didn’t. He’d tried explaining it to Joan before, but Joan had looked at him a little confused and wondered allowed if his soulmates’ writings didn’t just feel the same. Logan had said that, no, they didn’t. But when explaining how he could tell the difference between Roman and Virgil, the words just never came out right.

But the point remained that this sensation felt weird. Because it certainly wasn’t Virgil writing, either. Virgil was… dark. His feeling was something jittery, but somehow calm and mellow. Or, in comparison to Roman, anyway, he was calm. He was like Halloween, maybe a little spooky, definitely exciting. Like the Halloweens of childhood with the Disney channel original movies like Twitches and Halloween Town.

This sensation felt like… warmth. Like comfort. The feeling of Christmas with his family. Like holding puppies and kittens and baking cookies and sitting out in the sun on the porch with a good book or going and playing in the grass like he used to in the afternoons. Things that would come again as an adult, but were, as a child, something magical and special and… they just wouldn’t feel the same way ever again.

This felt like nostalgia.

And then, suddenly, it hit Logan like a ton of bricks. Patton. Patton felt like nostalgia. That’s who this was.

Patton hadn’t written to any of them in quite awhile, and before then, Logan still hadn’t quite been able to identify the feeling that Patton inspired. So to feel it again, so suddenly, as he was making his way into the Performing Arts building for rehearsal was a little startling.

But looking down at his arm, he saw two words in tiny script high on his wrist, covering the faint blue veins there.

**I’m sorry**

And Logan figured this was important enough to pause for. He stopped just inside, right next to the stairs, and dropped his bookbag, digging through it for a pen of some sort. He came up with a regular ballpoint pen. It wasn’t “skin safe”, but it was better than nothing, and beyond that, the ink shouldn’t hurt him.

**For what?**

It took a moment, and Logan watched the words appear line by line, until he read some sloppy something that was along the lines of, **Can we talk???**

**We are.**

Then suddenly there were red marks joining the blue and black and a sense of security washing through Logan’s chest.

**I think he meant on the phone, Specs**

Blue: **Yeah**

Logan responded quickly, knowing that he had a little bit of time before rehearsal, but not enough for a phone call.

**No** -

A sudden piercing jab of white hot anger surged through him, that Logan knew was not his own.

Red: **What the hell, Logan!!**

Purple: **Jeez, Lo… That’s kinda harsh…**

Logan sighed, frustrated. Were they waiting for him to screw up or something?

**No, that’s not what I meant. I meant, I have somewhere to be in a few minutes, and it will not be enough time for a phone call. Please leave your phone number, Patton, and I will call you when I am done. Is that agreeable?**

Blue marker again. **Yeah. Thanks, Lo!**

*

It was only an hour and a half later. The first rehearsal didn’t consist of a whole lot. Those in charge had already held auditions and cast roles to those they wanted. Logan hadn’t spent much time around the actual actors and actresses, most of whom were at least sophomores or older. There weren’t a whole lot of freshman who were cast, at least not for the bigger parts in the play.

Logan was only here because of his dads. They wanted him to do something social. Get out there and meet some people. Make some friends. Friends who weren’t in his own field of study or the people he was roommates with. That’s what Papa and Dad had said, anyway. They were always so concerned about their youngest child.

In all fairness, they hadn’t really had to treat Joan like this when they were his age. They were a bit more social, or at least they were social in more “acceptable” ways than Logan was. But Joan understood the frustration that built up in Logan. Logan just didn’t… connect with people. That was why he’d been put into homeschooling anyway. That, and he learns very differently than a lot of kids, and he did very poorly in kindergarten and first grade amongst all his peers.

So here he was… helping with tech and props for the fall play the drama club at his college was performing this year.

Patton had left his number on Logan’s arm, but as requested, and Logan saved it into his phone, dialing the number and holding the ringing device up to his ear.

_“Hello?”_ Patton’s voice answered quickly.

“Hello. Is this Patton?” Logan, ever polite, always wanted to be sure he knew exactly who he was talking to. Because sometimes, when he mess up and make a mistake, it could haunt you for the rest of your life and no one would ever let you live it down.

_“Umm… Yes? Who is this?”_ Patton responded. Logan could hear the confused look on his face.

“This is Logan.”

There was a yelp and what sounded like a crash and another voice yelling, before Patton returned, his voice high and shaky.

_“H-hey, Logan! Sorry about that! I knew you were going to call, but I didn’t know when and golly, I’m real sorry, Logan-”_

“Patton, it is fine. I believe I should actually be the one to apologize to you-” Logan paused as a group of sophomores exited the building, talking loudly and laughing. One of them was taller than the others, his hair an interestingly golden shade of medium brown. Logan only saw the older student from the back, but there something achy in his chest that screamed the sight seemed familiar. There were colors up and down his right arm, but Logan never did get a good look at them, as the guy’s arm swung up and out of view behind someone else.

Logan brushed it off. The guy was loud and seemed rather obnoxious anyway. The feeling was probably from talking to Patton, possibly a residual feeling from Virgil. Occasionally, when Virgil or Roman felt something extremely intense, Logan could pick up on it.

That’s what this was. Virgil watching Patton on the phone with Logan.

“Is Virgil there?” Logan asked casually.

_“Yeah, he is! Do you want to say hi?”_ Patton offered with a bright tone.

The sophomores quieted briefly as they walked away slowly. Thank goodness.

“No, Pat, that’s alright,” he replied. “So what did you want to talk about?”

*

Roman laughed loudly at the joke Terrance had made as he exited the Performing Arts building with his little group of friends. He couldn’t help it, he was just so excited! He’d been cast as one of the lead’s in the production, even though he was only a sophomore. This was great! He couldn’t wait to get back to his dorm room and text Virgil and Logan, letting them know. Roman knew they wouldn’t be quite as excited as he was, but they were at least supportive.

He’d probably have to hold off on telling Logan though. He was probably on a call with Patton. Or he would be at some point this evening.

That was alright though. He could always tell Logan tomorrow.

As his own laughter died down, so did his friends', and he could have sworn he heard a familiar voice behind him, talking to someone called “Pat”.

After a brief second, Roman brushed it off. He heard a lot of things that sounded like other things. Besides, Pat could be a pretty common nickname for people.


	10. Part Ten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Logan is invited to have dinner with Virgil and Patton and they have a... talk that is long overdue.

It was the weekend. Logan didn’t have any classes, and rehearsal had just let out for the afternoon. He still hadn’t seen a whole lot of the actors, but he’d heard them practicing lines together in a circle on the stage. But Logan was busy with something else. He was being trusted with the sound board for the the second performance of opening weekend. Why? Because perhaps Joan knew some people and loved to brag about their little brother, and perhaps because the regular sound board buy was going to be gone that night due to… reasons.

So Logan had to learn what to do when and how to do it. Not that there was much direction on what exactly they were going to do yet, seeing as rehearsals had just started, but the point still stood that he needed to know what everything did.

He could figure out some of it on his own. Things were labeled, after all, and he was fairly good at computers and stuff, but there was still a lot he had to learn from Sean.

But between working with Sean, he was being shuffled between other odd jobs, like being taught what to do with the lights and which levers and switches to flip. And then they also had him running around, taking stock of all the props they had at their disposal.

Apparently the lead of the play was very good at what he did and wanted the show to be absolutely perfect. And the director was backing him up.

So Logan was able to keep pretty darn busy.

But now, he had the rest of the day free and no work to be thought of, so he was heading to the cafeteria near his dorm to grab a later lunch. Or… on second thought, maybe just a small snack. It’d be time for dinner in a few hours, and as hungry as Logan is, he’d rather just wait instead of getting himself off his regular routine.

And speaking of routines, his phone started buzzing in his pocket. For just a second, Logan couldn’t remember why the device wasn’t making sound and playing his ringtone, until he realized that he’d turned it off so as not to interrupt Raymond or whatever his name was reciting some epic monologue to the rest of the cast.

He pulled the black and white phone out of his pocket and glanced briefly at the caller ID, realizing suddenly that Virgil was calling him instead of Patton. Patton had been the one to call him nearly every day sometime between three and six, depending on their class schedules. So maybe this worried Logan a little bit.

“Hello?” he answered politely.

_“Hey, Lo,”_ Virgil greeted with a relaxed tone.

Probably nothing to worry about then. Just a change in routine.

“How can I help you, Virgil?” Logan asked.

_“Well, jeez, maybe I just wanted to talk to my soulmate, Logan-”_

Teasing. But still…

“I am sorry, Virgil. I did not mean it like that. I simply-”

_“I know, Logan. I was just messing with you.”_ Virgil was smiling. Logan could hear it in his voice. _“I did call for a reason, though. Patton would have, but he’s got his hands full at the moment.”_

“Ah, I see. What would the reason be, then?”

_“Patton has plans on taking over our dorm’s communal kitchen to cook dinner, and he would like to know if you would come join us. He’s been all bouncy and excited to see you again since your conversation on the phone last week.”_

Dinner? With… with two of his soulmates? The ones he actively ran away from a month or so ago? The ones he actually switched English classes to avoid, not because he didn’t want to see his soulmates but because… because Logan just couldn’t talk to people? And what if they didn’t like him? Or what if who he was wasn’t the person they were expecting and they decided that it was just too much to deal with and left him behind? It wasn’t like he could love any of them anyway… so why waste the effort on him?

But still, he was being offered dinner, and neither of them had ever wronged him in anyway… well… perhaps that wasn’t true, but as far as Logan had been informed, it wasn’t particularly… intentional.

So he agreed.

“Sure,” Logan responded, keeping his tone light as a dark pit roiled in his belly. “What time would you like me to arrive?”

Virgil chuckled. _“Polite as always, Logan…”_ Virgil’s voice became muffled and distant for a moment. Logan assumed he had pressed the speaker into his shoulder and was speaking to Patton or… someone else.

_“How about six? Patton says he might still be baking by then but… you know, he’s excited.”_

Logan thought quickly. Six o’clock. That was three hours away. He’d probably still go grab a quick snack, but probably only a package of fruit snacks or a granola bar from the vending machine on his floor. He’d also… probably have to change. He was wearing all black and it wasn’t exactly nice enough for a dinner with his soulmates that he’d only met once before, so better to wear something more appropriate. Which means… he was a five minute walk away from his dorm, and then it would be a few minutes to get to the vending machine and then back to his room. He’d shower, which would take probably… say twenty five minutes. He wanted to look his best, after all. Then of course he’d get dressed which should only take five minutes and at that point he’d still have to find out where Virgil and Patton’s dorm was and how far away from his own it was. He’d have to walk there which, even assuming it was the furthest one away, would be a twenty minute walk, max. So he’d have to kill about… two hours of time.

Two hours to wait.

Two hours to think…

Two hours to _over_ think…

Two hours in which he could find an excuse and back out, if need be.

Acceptable.

“That will work just fine, thank you.” Logan tried to keep a smile in his voice, even if his heart felt like it might just beat straight out of his chest and kill him. “Which dorm do you live in?”

_“Declan Hall. We’re room 4205, in the second wing on the fourth floor. Okay?”_

“Thank you. I will remember that.”

Make that two hours and fifteen minutes.

*

Logan was dressed, sitting on his bed and trying not to overthink anything.

He could study to pass the time. That was it! Distractions were always good for making the time fly by.

*

One hour, thirty eight minutes.

Studying could only do so much. Perhaps he could look for new courses to take next semester…

*

One hour, twenty two minutes.

Logan had concluded he would take all the ones he was already required to take and then maybe he’d think of taking an extra science course. His fathers wouldn’t exactly be happy and would probably encourage him to step more outside his comfort zone and find something else he was interested in. They would support him, of course but… they’d want him to take a look at learning an instrument, or join the spring musical production or something.

Music! He could listen to music.

*

One hour, three minutes.

Nothing sounded interesting. He’d listened to a few songs to pass the time, had replayed one of them that his sibling had written for their friend, Thomas, to sing, but that was it. He hated country music, and pop music just seemed too upbeat. Classical didn’t have enough words, and the rap songs he did like somehow felt like they had too many today…

Okay, so distracting himself just wasn’t working…

So… face the problem head on.

He was about to spend an unspecified amount of time around two of his three soulmates, only one of which he had known about and then other… The other one hadn’t talked to them at all until the beginning of the summer. Oh, sure, he’d talked to Virgil, but that was only because they’d grown up together! They’d spent years forging a bond Virgil hadn’t even known was there! Patton could have, at any time, said something to Virgil and revealed their status as soulmates, and he… he hadn’t!

It didn’t make sense! Soulmates were destined by the universe! Something beyond science, which already unnerved Logan to no end, but… Oh, who does that! Who hides that information! Logan knew that Virgil loved Patton. Had loved him for many, many years. That on some level, Virgil had expressed to both Logan and Roman that he was interested in dating the other teen regardless of whether or not they were soulmates. Virgil had no idea they were soulmates! And he was ready to spend time and effort and love on Patton!

So… did Patton not feel the same way? Did he not like the idea of soulmates? It had to be something! People didn’t just… ignore their soulmates! Sure, it wasn’t unheard of, but… but… who does that! Surely Patton’s parents had taught him about soulmates and what writing on his arms meant! Everyone was taught that! When the marks start showing up on a child’s skin, their parents sit them down and explain the idea of soulmates, but usually in a really simplified way so that the child could understand. Most people’s soulmarks started forming early in life, so young children weren’t generally able to understand the intricacies of it.

Or… that’s what Logan’s fathers had done. And Joan said they did it for them too when they was younger. Virgil said his parents did something similar, and so did Roman’s moms.

So it stands to reason that Patton’s mother and father had told him what it meant and why the marks were so important.

Which begs the question: what was wrong with Patton?

Virgil had told Logan and Roman quickly after the whole **I’m Here** incident that Patton was their fourth soulmate and that there were some things they had to work through, but neither of them had said another word about it. So whether or not Virgil had an explanation, Logan was unsure. But they sure didn’t say much about it.

Roman had been so excited that first time Patton had written to them. And he wanted to love Patton with all his heart like he did Virgil and Logan, but then the excitement had worn off and the questions had started, just as they had for Logan.

Now, don’t misunderstand, Logan wasn’t a naturally suspicious person. He was a naturally curious person, and that curiosity often led to suspicions, and Patton’s whereabouts for the last eleven years in regards to being a soulmate were suspicious at best.

It was only natural that Logan wouldn’t know how to respond to any of this.

It had taken time for Logan to trust Virgil and Roman when he talked to them all the time. He’d been the last to be brought into the group, after all, being the youngest. He hadn’t started seeing the drawings until he was well into his first grade year of school. That was nearly a year or more after Virgil’s purple stick figures had shown up on Roman’s arm. Supposedly, Roman had drawn on himself earlier than that, but it hadn’t shown up on any of the others. They’d been too young.

So then time passed and Logan was doing worse in school until his fathers enrolled him in online schooling. And with that came a desire to keep as far away from people as possible, Joan, Papa, and Dad being the the exceptions. He acknowledged Roman’s and Virgil’s drawings and messages, and responded when he was asked questions, but he put very little stock in whether or not he actually liked them.

And maybe some would say that what he did was just as bad, but…

At least he had been present! At least Logan had talked to them!

That was more than Patton had done.

Perhaps… perhaps Patton really only cared for Virgil. After all… they were friends in real life. They were… had been boyfriends. And maybe they were again, now? Logan wasn’t sure… After Patton had pulled that whole breaking up with Virgil and distancing himself stunt, and the subsequent make up staged by Virgil and Roman, Logan wasn’t sure where they stood anymore. But it seemed to be on good terms at least.

Well, fine… good for them…

Who… who needed soulmates, anyway?

Fifteen minutes.

Oh…

Had it really been that long? Had he really sat there on his bed for forty eight minutes?

Well… He should probably leave in about ten minutes. It wouldn’t take long to walk to their dorm. It was actually pretty close.

His phone buzzed on his desk. Logan rose and stepped over to it, picking it up and clicking it on, scanning the message that glared back at him.

Virgil Foley @ 5:45 | Hey Lo. just wanted to make sure you were still good to come over?

What did he say? He should say yes. Yes that he was still coming over, yes that he was excited to see them both, yes that he cared for them, because those were the right things to say, right? He was supposed to care for his soulmates, and he… he did. He thinks he did anyway. He can’t love them, but he was pretty sure he cared about them. As illogical as that was.

But could he… could he go now? Having thought about it? Because… because there still wasn’t any explanation for Patton’s absense or his sudden appearance, and for some illogical reason, that ticked Logan off to no end.

Patton was sweet, and charming, and loving, and caring, and a million and one other things that Logan could never even think of being, and yet… and yet! He had still hidden from them!

Logan didn’t know what to do…

*

Logan was a good person. Or at the very least, he liked to think so. He was polite, for the most part, and acted with good manners just as he had been taught to as a child.

So when Logan said he would be somewhere, unless he had a legitimate reason not to, Logan would be there.

And there had been no legitimate reason not to go to the dinner Patton had probably put so much time and effort into just for the sake of Logan coming over. He wasn’t stupid, after all. Logan knew that Patton would go over the top. Because in some respects, he was a lot like Roman. (Logan only knew this because of how much Virgil talked about Patton for years, but still.) He would have pulled out all the stops and worked himself tirelessly to make everything perfect because he’s Patton and he “loves everyone unconditionally and would move the sun for you if it would make you happy”.

So Logan steeled himself, locked away all those… thoughts… so that they wouldn’t explode out of him when he saw Patton, and make his way briskly over to Declan Hall. The dorm was nice. Not one of the brand new ones the college had built last year, but it certainly wasn’t one of the oldest. Virgil and Patton had probably gotten pretty lucky to be able to live here. A lot of freshmen stayed in Meyers Hall. It was one of the oldest, with no A/C, and the heating was likely not to kick on until it was becoming unbearably cold. Sure, it had been renovated “recently”, but Logan was glad to not be living there too.

That didn’t matter a whole lot though. Campus rules could be pretty strict about soulmates. Soulmates who planned to live together while attending school and living on campus were to stay in the soulmate housing dorms. Or, as the student body lovingly called them, Marks Apartments. Because to call those buildings “dorms” would be almost insulting to how nice they actually were. They were technically apartment buildings that just happen to be on campus and housed soulmates. Each apartment was likely to have one or two, and in some cases, three bedrooms with a full kitchen, possibly multiple bathrooms, and a fairly spacious living area. These apartments came fully furnished with full sized beds in each room, along with a dresser and a desk and chair. The living room had a couch, a chair, and coffee table, and an entertainment unit where the inhabitants could put a TV if they so desired.

No, they certainly couldn’t be called dorms at all.

And Virgil and Patton would be moving into one come next semester.

Logan was about to enter Declan Hall when a thought struck him suddenly. Would the administration make him move in with Virgil and Patton?

“Hey, dude!” came a rude voice behind him. “Either go in or don’t, but you’re kinda in the way.”

Logan’s legs kickstarted and quickly carried him inside the building and away from the stranger. He didn’t even bother looking at them. He was a little preoccupied.

Logan might… He might… oh god.

He might have to move in with his soulmates.

This couldn’t be happening.

*

Logan stood there in the lobby of the dorm until an RA approached him.

She seemed like a nice girl, with a sweet smile and a welcoming demeanor. Of course, Logan felt as if, if need be, she would rip him to pieces without a second’s hesitation. She was probably about 4’11 with honey blonde hair was fell to her shoulder blades and she wore a cute floral dress that suited her well.

“Hi!” she greeted happily. “My name’s Katie. I’m one of the RA’s on Floor 4. Can I help you with something?”

Logan wanted to shy away from her. “Hello, Katie. I was just here to meet with my s- my friends… for dinner.”

Katie didn’t look surprised. “That sounds fantastic! Do you live here…?”

Logan shook his head. “Logan. My name’s Logan. No, I don’t live here.”

“Alright, well, you won’t be able to get up to their dorm unless one of them comes down and brings you up. Your pass there on your keychain won’t get you past the scanners in this building.” Katie pointed out the scanners next to the glass doors on either side of the lobby that Logan knew were there. They existed in his dorm as well. “Are your friends expecting you?”

Logan nodded.

“Well, who are you meeting? I might have them on my floor. I could call them to come get you.”

“Virgil Foley and Patton Tate. They’re in room 4205.”

Katie’s face brightened. Logan wasn’t sure how, since the young woman had already been absolutely beaming. “Virgil and Patton! I know them! They’re the talk of the dorm. They live right next to me. Besides, everyone knows of them. The soulmates who managed to ‘escape’ the Marks Apartments!” Katie laughed like it was the funniest thing in the world. “Oh, it’s just a joke, of course. But there’s been talk that they have other soulmates as well. Quite unusual. But then again, so is the whole situation when you think about it.”

The girl rambled as she pulled her phone out a pocket in the skirt of her dress, which Logan was surprised about but thought was pretty cool considering most dresses didn’t have pockets. She scrolled through her contacts until she stopped on one with the picture of a beaming young man wearing a sky blue polo shirt and thick framed black glasses. Katie was still talking as she held the phone up to her ear and waited for Patton to answer.

“-but you never know, of course. The science of soulmates is so unexplored that- Hi, Patton! This is Katie, and you might be able to guess who I have with me here in the lobby!”

Logan really wanted to shy away from this girl. She was nice, alright, but man was she a talker. And Logan just… oh, no. Logan talked a lot about certain things from time to time, but this much talking was just so not up his alley.

“Great! Fantastic! Well, I’m heading up to my room anyway, why don’t I walk him up with me and drop him at yours?” Katie offered into the speaker of her phone.

Logan knew she was offering because she was nice, but he cringed inwardly at the thought of having to make it up to the fourth floor with her.

“Sure! Yeah, see you later, Pat!” Katie hung up, turning back to Logan and looking up at him again.

“Alright, I’m walking you upstairs with me. Come on,” she said with yet another blindly bright smile.

She led them to the glass door on the right of the lobby and pulled out her lanyard to swipe a little gray plastic chip past the scanners. There was an almost buzz like noise, the sound of the lock clicking open, and Katie pulled at the handle, leading Logan through confidently. Katie stopped them in front of the elevators instead of continuing up the stairs.

“You don’t mind if we take the elevator, do you? My asthma is really very bad so going up the stairs can be a little difficult for me.” Katie gave him a shy sort of smile, which was almost a pleasant change from the previous ones. “And I would rather not make you suffer through watching me huff and puff my way up four flights of them.”

Logan shook his head. “No, no, the elevator is perfectly fine. I do not wish for you to injure yourself or anything of the sort.”

The sunny smile was back. “Thank you very much, Logan.”

Logan took a deep breath and tried very hard not to sigh it back out. This might be a long elevator ride.

But not as long as the stairs…

*

Katie left Logan standing outside a door with the number 4205 on it in black and white block lettering and two hand made name tags that matched the ones hanging on all the doors in the second wing. They were laminated puppies and kittens with the occupants’ names on them. Patton’s was a blue fluffy dog, and Virgil’s was a purple kitten.

Logan knocked hesitantly on the door, suddenly hearing a shout of surprise and some scrambling, and then the door was being pulled open rather quickly.

And… there was Patton.

Standing right in front of Logan.

And the only thing Logan could think about was how Patton’s glasses were almost the exact same ones Logan had had back in middle school.

What was _wrong_ with him?

“Logan!” Patton exclaimed. Logan noticed belatedly how Patton’s arms twitched forward, almost as if he might throw them around Logan’s shoulders and hang on tightly. And then he started noticing how Patton was actually taller than he had imagined he was, and that this kid was completely _covered_ in freckles, and how he had one dimple in his left cheek, but no dimple in his right.

And, honest to god, Logan had been looking at pictures of Patton for years! Virgil was remarkably good at photography, and he used Patton as his muse about six times out of ten, so Logan had seen him consistently since at least eighth grade. Why was he just now really looking at him?

And as Logan’s fee- thoughts continued to argue in his mind about what kind of person Patton really was, all Logan could focus on was the fact that this boy was… he was…

Cute.

Really _fucking cute_.

And Logan thought he might scream from it all.

*

Patton, Logan found, was very good at cooking. Virgil said he was very good at cooking only specific things, and that he was much better at baking, but what Patton had made tonight was well beyond what Logan had actually prepared himself for.

He had expected real food, which he had gotten, but he’d expected real food made by a freshman college student who knew how to use the kitchen, but only to a certain degree. What he had been provided with was food “made with love” by someone who had supposedly been cooking meals for his family for several years, and was even teaching his cousin (who was a good ten years older than himself) how to cook a proper meal and make it taste completely and utterly, mouth wateringly delicious.

It almost made Logan want to cry.

Because Logan was the first kind of person. He could make food, but only mediocre food, and most of the time he liked to stick with online recipes telling him how he could incorporate Ramen noodles into meatless stir-fry because he didn’t like to touch raw meat and needed some form of protein.

On some levels, Logan was a mess.

Patton, however, appeared not to be.

Which infuriated Logan even more.

The evening was going well. The food had been eaten with very few leftovers, and Patton had even baked a pie and a batch of cookies, both of which were being split up so that Logan could take some back to his dorm for later. Virgil, who Logan could tell was wearing a bit thin after the stress of the evening, had suggested they just sit and watch a movie for a little while to calm down.

Logan had agreed, since there wasn’t much of another option. It was fall, and the fall weather was starting to roll in, so while the days were still warm, the night were getting chilly, and none of them had thought of much they could do.

This was fine. He could handle this. He was getting increasingly more frustrated because Patton seemed content to just pretend like nothing was wrong, and Virgil was probably trying to avoid something with the fear that whatever conversation they might have would blow straight out of proportion, but… this was fine.

Once the movie was over, he would bid them both goodnight, go back to his room, possibly scream into his pillow and…

He would wing it after that.

That was not what happened.

Because Patton chose a movie without really thinking. He chose some science fiction, vaguely romantic, tragedy movie set in some alternate universe where soulmarks weren’t a thing and people just had to… figure out love and life without having any clues. Logan had no idea what the plot was about, because he couldn’t even be bothered to pay attention to the damn thing.

Everything came to a head when the protagonist’s love interest ran away from him and hid, ignoring his calls and text messages, until some random friend told the protagonist that the love interest had died, or something like that.

Logan reached over and paused the movie playing on Patton’s laptop.

He couldn’t… he couldn’t handle this anymore.

“Logan?” Virgil asked quietly. “What’s wrong?”

Logan was silent for a moment, taking a deep breath and willing himself not to scream.

“Logan-”

“I am- I am tired,” Logan started.

“Oh, well, if you want, we can call it a night-”

“I am tired of pretending like there is nothing wrong.”

Virgil looked at him, almost shocked. “Logan-”

“Do not tell me that nothing is wrong, because something is, quite obviously, wrong.” Logan’s voice was raising. He stood from his place on Patton’s bed, walking the few feet over to the door and flipping the lightswitch there on the wall.

“I… I know that I am the last person to make a… a big deal out of this… but… but it just doesn’t make any sense!” Logan exclaimed, looking back at his soulmates. Virgil’s expression screamed confusion, but there was something in his dark brown eyes that seemed to begin to understand.

Patton’s face, however. He… he looked like he expected this. His eyes, though still turned on Logan, were sort of downcast, slightly unfocussed, like he was staring through Logan rather than at him. His face, which had been bright and smiley, not unlike Katie from earlier, but verging on… devoid of emotion. Just blank and expressionless. Patton’s shoulders slumped and his hands rested uselessly in his lap.

“Logan, please understand,” Virgil started. “There are things that we haven’t told you or Roman yet and… not because they’re not important but because…”

“I’m still working through them,” Patton finished for him. God, even his voice was unemotional. It was soft and flat and… Logan did not like listening to it.

“Working… through them?” Logan could feel the anger- no… his thoughts settling. Was it… it must be. How could he not have seen it? This had to be so much more complicated than just… ignoring your soulmates. Of course it was something else. How could it not be?

“Yeah,” Virgil offered for Patton. “Lo, sit down please.”

Logan looked around, taking the chair from the desk on the right and moving it to sit in front of Virgil and Patton.

Virgil looked at Patton, seeming to ask for permission without speaking. Patton glanced at him, then nodded and looked away again.

“Listen… Patton’s mother… She’s a sweet lady, she is. But… she and her husband, Pat’s father, they’re not soulmates. They love each other, and they love Patton, but… Mrs. Tate doesn’t like soulmates. She says she doesn’t believe in them. When she was a teenager, she and her soulmate had agreed to meet. They lived in completely different states, and they had been told that their bond would grow better if they let the meeting happen naturally. They didn’t listen. Mrs. Tate snuck out one night and drove to the next state over. She and her soulmate were going to meet at a Waffle House, of all things…”

Patton snorted at the story. He curled his knees up to his chest and hid his face in his right bicep before Virgil continued.

Logan was curious. “What happened?”

“Patton’s mother felt something on her arm. She slowed down and stopped on the shoulder of the highway to check and see if her soulmate had said anything. Her arm said ‘don’t come’ in all caps, and it seemed to be written in blood. Mrs. Tate started freaking out. She drove the rest of the way to the Waffle House and… there were police cars all over the place and like three ambulances. Paramedics were rushing all over the place treating people-”

Patton cut him off in a bitter voice. “Some dunkard had gone into the place, started making wild accusations that nobody could understand… He pulled out of gun and aimed it at one of the waiters, but he kept tipping over and when he fired, he just kept pulling the trigger. Three people died that night, at least five were injured… Mom’s soulmate didn’t make it. She was the furthest back in the restaurant, and the police had to take out the shooter before they could get to everyone. The paramedics found her with her hand smeared in blood from a hole right above the dip in her collarbones, that message painted on her arm…”

Logan was… trying not to cry.

“When Patton started getting soulmarks… Mrs. Tate went ballistic. She told him soulmates weren’t real and… he got hurt. So he started hiding the marks, from everyone. He wouldn’t show them to his parents or our friends or me…” Virgil continued for the younger teen.

“I know,” Logan muttered. “I know that part…”

Patton nodded. He also looked like he was trying not to cry.

“I… I am so sorry, Logan. I’m sorry that… that this is the situation we’ve been put in… I’m sorry that I reacted the way I did weeks ago in class. I-” Patton’s voice hitched as he tried to keep his breathing steady. “I’m sorry we didn’t check in with you, and we didn’t come find you… I don’t know if you wanted us to, but I’m sorry we didn’t. I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you guys as kids, and I’m sorry that I tried to run away again…”

Logan took a steadying breath. See, now things made sense. A horrible, awful, disheartening sort of sense, but sense. Logan could understand how, after what she’d been through, Mrs. Tate might react the way she did. He could also now see exactly where Patton had been their entire childhoods. Scared. Hurt. Frightened.

Logan wasn’t upset… He wasn’t upset anymore. He couldn’t feel the… anger that had been boiling in his gut for the past few months…

His… feelings… thoughts… whatever they were. They were misplaced. Misguided. Purely by a lack of information and communication. But that wasn’t Patton’s or Virgil’s fault. This was something very personal for Patton, and Logan couldn’t blame them for not talking about it until now. It made sense.

“I am also sorry, Patton,” Logan began sincerely. “I have reacted in a way that is… inappropriate based on this new information. I am sorry you had to be so open with me about a topic that… you might not be ready to fully discuss yet…”

Patton shook his head, a tight, watery smile on his face. He sniffled before speaking. “No, Logan. It’s alright. It’s not your fault…”

“Sometimes…” Virgil offered, “these things just… happen. And… they’re tragic but… there’s nothing we can do but… hold onto each other.” He finished, looking lovingly at Patton, and then turning his gaze to Logan for confirmation.

Logan gave his own, nearly teary smile. He nodded. “Yeah. Of course.”


	11. Part Eleven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roman and Logan have an interesting rehearsal.

The week just wouldn’t end. Each class seemed to drag on for forever and a day, and whole days felt like literal eternities. He was wasting away, slowly but surely. He’d never make it to the weekend. He’d just keel over and die right in the middle of his… what class was this? English Composition? Yeah, that. Just right here at his desk in the lecture hall, surrounded by his classmates, only a few of whom seemed to be even remotely interested in what was going on.

Roman had better things to think about.

Opening night was Friday. They were so close, and yet still so far away that it physically pained him. On the one hand, it was Monday afternoon. They had just over four days to be completely, absolutely ready. Everything had to be perfect. The whole cast had been working nearly non stop to ensure last minute changes and set designs and dance routines were beautiful beyond compare. On the other hand… there was one scene Roman continued to trip over, no matter how much he practiced. One line, really, in particular.

He was the prince. The lead. Or, one of the leads. There was also this girl, playing a young baker’s daughter turned sudden princess. Their characters were soulmates. Destined to be together against all odds, no matter what.

One day, when Prince Edward (Roman) sneaks out of the castle, he stops in a small, local bakery to buy a rather delicious looking pastry. It doesn’t look as fancy as the ones his chef bakes for him at the castle, but there’s something about it that appears so mouth wateringly good. There is a cute little maiden standing behind the counter, covered nearly head to toe in flour, hurriedly wiping her hands off on a towel to come help her latest customer. Prince Edward falls immediately in love with the girl with flour in her tied back, dirty blonde curls. The young woman mistakes the prince as another member of the common folk, thanks to a spell from the king’s royal sorcerer. The two agree to meet later and talk. The prince reveals how he has never seen a mark from his soulmate, and the girl reveals how she has never been able to answer her own, as she was never taught to read or write. Through a series of funny, heartwarming, convoluted near disasters, the two realize that they are soulmates.

Everything up until this point goes swimmingly in practice and dress rehearsals. And then, everything seems to go to… well, shit, to put it bluntly.

Because this is the scene where Roman, Prince Edward, reveals that he is the prince of the kingdom, and that the baker’s daughter is his soulmate. They look lovingly at one another, hold the other close, kiss, say those three magic words-

Roman can’t do it.

His co-star, Seraphina, Sera for short, is amazing. She’s a talented young actress, a senior in her final year of college. She’s about 5’6 with uneven tan lines from working at summer camps, pretty blue eyes, and naturally wavy dirty blonde hair. She’s pretty. She plays the part of Ginger Baker (a rather uninspired name, if Roman was asked) exceptionally well, and she’s an easy partner to play off of as well. Sera and Roman could bounce off each other for hours, finding better ways to deliver lines or more natural body language for whatever their character happened to be saying at that moment. Acting exercises between the two were a sight to behold, truly.

But… as great as Sera was… Roman just couldn’t… feel it.

He couldn’t get into that particular scene.

Roman, himself, has never really had that experience. Soulmates in today’s day in age are so different from how they used to be. Roman’s own moms used to tell him a lot when he was younger about how lucky he is to have regular contact with his soulmates outside of just what they could fit on their skin, which admittedly, was a lot.

But despite that, and despite the fact that he had been having “face-to-face” conversations with Logan and Virgil for years, Roman didn’t know what it was like to truly meet them. He had never seen Logan’s dark, chocolate brown eyes in person, or admired just how bright purple Virgil’s hair shined in the right kind of sunlight, or, now, gotten the pleasure of experiencing Patton’s sun-bright smile turned directly at him as he laughed or told a joke.

The other three… they had that. They’d gotten those experiences. Virgil had been experiencing that for years before any of them even so much as suspected. They’d had their suspicions about another soulmate, but there for a while, there had been no indication it would be Virgil’s childhood best friend. And now that Logan was slowly settling himself into a brand new dynamic with Virgil and Patton, the three of them had every opportunity to… to…

To go out on cute dates to coffee shops around their college campus.

To pile on a bed or couch together and watch movies for hours.

To laugh and smile and exist together like nothing else on this planet could possibly matter outside of the three of them.

And Roman… Roman was alone. Stuck here in English Composition, knowing that as soon as class let out, he’d have to make his way over to the theater building and prepare himself for yet another rehearsal where they’d focus specifically on the one scene he just can’t get right, because what does Roman know?

Sera’s nice, but she’s no Patton. Sera’s smart, but she’s no Logan. Sera’s caring, but she’s no Virgil.

And Roman just… can’t stand there and look into the eyes of a girl, engaged to her own soulmate in real life, and proclaim his undying, unyielding, unambiguous love for her when he hasn’t even gotten the chance to do it for real with his own missing pieces.

It just didn’t seem fair.

And Roman had four days to figure out how to at least make the scene semi-believable.

Or at the very least get the damn lines to come out of his mouth without sounding like he wanted to throw himself off a cliff.

*

Class ran over. The bus had left just ten seconds before Roman pounded up to the stop. He could still see it trundling down the road, and turning the corner off to its next destination.

Roman checked his watch. Five minutes. He wouldn’t make it there in five minutes, but no one had ever called Roman Prince a quitter, and if they tried, he’d probably duel them in a fight to the death. Or at least until they called uncle or something.

Nothing would defeat him.

So Roman turned in the general direction of the theater building and sprinted. He cut across open grassy areas, dashing across roads and narrowly missing a car that could have hit him, dodging students and faculty members left and right, winding around buildings in his way. He even ran straight through one building. He entered through the back door, sped through the hallways, thankfully avoiding all wandering people, and then burst through the front doors and made a last mad dash for the theater building right across a field and a road.

A group of techie freshmen were entering the doors as Roman approached. He shouldered past a kid who seemed a little too young to be a freshman in college, wearing a neat, navy blue polo shirt and dark blue jeans, rushing down the entryway.

“Excuse you!” the kid called after him in an aggravated tone.

“Sorry!” Roman called back over his shoulder. No time to stop. He was only a minute late, but the fact he was late at all was unacceptable. Those freshmen should also already be in rehearsal, working with the lights and stuff.

Roman found himself bursting into the auditorium and then jogging down the middle aisle towards the stage. There was the director, one of the performing arts professors, standing in between the first row of chairs and speaking to the cast, all standing up on the stage in various levels of costuming. The short woman turned around and made eye contact with Roman.

“Ah, Mr. Prince. So nice of you to join us today.”

She wasn’t a mean person. Truly, she wasn’t. It’s just that the stress was starting to get to all of them and more people than just Roman were a little perturbed at his inability to perform the confession scene at his usual standards.

“I know, Dr. Allen, I’m sorry. Dr. Sarlen held us over again today.” Roman dropped his stuff rather unceremoniously into a seat a few rows behind Dr. Allen, hurryingly past her and up one of the sets of steps off to the side.

The woman sighed understandingly. “I understand, Roman. But you know the time crunch we’re under here-”

Roman took his place beside Seraphina at the front of all the other actors. “I know, I know. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”

“I would hope not. I’ll say something to Dr. Sarlen. He’s generally very good about this sort of stuff. Now, as I was saying, we’re a little behind here, folks!” Dr. Allen clapped her hands together, drawing the group back to the original matter at hand. “Sera, Roman, I need you working on the kiss scene today. It needs to be done, and it needs to be done two weeks ago!”

“Yes, Ma’am,” Sera said appeasingly.

“Roman, tell me you’ve practiced this-” the woman pleaded.

“I-I have! I’ve been practicing for weeks!” Roman defended, feeling something deflate in his chest.

“Then what is the issue?” Dr. Allen inquired. She wasn’t mad, Roman knew that. But she was becoming desperate for anything good to happen with this scene.

“I-I- well, you see- I… just-”

“Roman, I hate to say this, but if you can’t get this scene right sometime today, then I’m having Morgan take your spot for opening night. Do you understand?”

Roman was crushed. He still had time to fix this, but… not a lot… This was his first big role, and everyone he’d worked with last year had highly recommended him. Sophomores didn’t often get leads from Dr. Allen. And here he was, letting everyone down. He could feel his throat starting to tighten a little bit as he nodded firmly.

Dr. Allen softened a little bit. “It’s nothing personal, Roman. But I think this scene might just be a little out of your comfort zone for now. Maybe you need to do a little more growing before you’re ready for something this big. But,” she added with a proud little spark in her eyes, “if you can prove to me by this time tomorrow afternoon that you can perform this scene to the best of your abilities, you can still do opening night. Got it?”

“Yes, Ma’am,” Roman agreed with a forced smile.

Dr. Allen smiled. “Good. Moving on.” She turned to look at the head tech guy, a rather tall Senior who would be running the soundboard for most of the performances. “Jordon, I need to hear that you have a replacement for Sunday’s afternoon performance.”

Jordon smiled happily at her and nodded. “Yup. Logan’s coming along great, and he will be perfectly ready to be on his own for Sunday.”

“Perfect. That’s exactly what I wanted to hear. Last thing before we separate-”

Roman tuned her out. He should have been listening, but… Logan. Jordon had said the name Logan.

There was no conceivable way that it was the same Logan, but… Roman had a Logan, and Roman wanted nothing more than for the person he was standing next to, about to profess unconditional love for, to be him. They bickered a lot, whether they were texting or writing or snapchatting or even Skyping, but Roman wouldn’t trade that for the world. Logan was smart, way smarter than Roman himself was.

Maybe Logan would know what he could do to keep his spot in the opening night performance…

*

Pain.

Deep, aching, stinging pain. He felt like someone had just reached straight into his chest and squeezed his heart, halting the breath in his lungs. Tears sprung to his eyes, and his throat closed suddenly, leaving him doubled over slightly on the steps up to the balcony where the soundboard was.

Logan couldn’t remember the last time he’d left like this. No… that was untrue. He could.

It was the day he’d made eye contact with Patton and Virgil in class and then bolted as quickly as he could.

This was how it had felt to sit at his laptop and convince himself he was fine as streams of tears cascaded down his cheeks and searing pain in his chest had him aching all over.

But this time it was… strange. The pain was harsh and intense, and very present, but so… detached? It wasn’t Logan’s pain…

His phone started buzzing in his pocket.

Logan fished it out as best he could, accepting the call without even looking at the caller ID.

“Hello?” he gritted out, fighting to keep his voice steady.

_“Logan?!”_ Patton exclaimed, too loud for talking on the phone. _“Oh goodness, are you okay?!”_

“I am… fine, Patton.” Logan took a deep breath, pushing away whatever connection this was.

_“Are you…”_

“Feeling this? Yes, I am. Who is it?” Logan forced himself to stand straight and continue up the stairs. Jordon would join him up here before long, and the senior couldn’t find him idling there on the steps. How would that look? Certainly not very professional.

_“It’s not me… And Virgil texted, saying it wasn’t him…”_

Logan almost dropped his phone. Roman.

He, Patton, and Virgil had spent quite a bit of their time together the past few weeks discussing their fourth soulmate. They spoke with him often, still calling and texting and drawing things for him. He’d even informed him that if they so chose, they could find a “princely design” to draw to go on him somewhere beneath his costume. Patton and Virgil had taken the lead in creating something just perfect for him.

But they still… felt his absence. It was weird for the three of them to be… together, as it were. Virgil and Patton had a set dynamic that had taken years to forge into the well oiled machine that it was today, and Logan was doing his best to find a way to slip in there like they wanted him to. It wasn’t hard. It was almost as if the cogs had been built with the intention of have two extra ones at some point. (Which, Logan thinks, is certainly the point of soulmates, even if the imagery isn’t quite his style.)

“It’s Roman. Try calling him, I will in a moment if you don’t get in touch with him.” Logan instructed. He waited for Patton’s gentle ‘okay, Lo, I love you’ before returning the sentiment and ending the call.

He reached the balcony and dropped his bag to the floor, opening up the soundboard and turning it on, waiting for the monitors to boot up.

Logan glanced quickly down at the stage, the cast members just now separating off into groups to practice certain scenes. The two leads still stood in the middle, the man taller than the woman, his back turned to Logan. He was wearing a red and white jacket, probably to ward against the growing chill in the air outside, and he was the same guy who’d knocked into Logan just a few minutes ago down in the lobby of the building.

What a jerk. He’d said sorry, but jeez, did he have to run into him in the first place? He wasn’t _that_ late that it required pushing one of your tech people. Logan could totally “forget” to use the proper lighting and just complete screw up one of the guy’s scenes.

Not that… Logan _would_ , mind you. He just… _could_.

He watched the leads speak for a second before the guy was fumbling for his pocket and pulling out his phone for a split second, then shoving it back where he’d gotten it from.

Logan looked down at the soundboard again, noticing that the monitors were up and running now. He opened a few files, looking the previous microphone levels as Jordon set up the mics down on the stage.

One buzz from his pocket. A text. Logan pulled his phone out and unlocked it, scanning the message from Patton.

Patton Tate @ 4:17 | he didn’t answer me and i called twice…

Logan typed out a quick response.

Logan Johnson @ 4:17 | Hold on. I will try in a moment.

Patton Tate @ 4:18 | hurry

Logan clicked away from the conversation, opening up his contacts and scrolling down to the P’s, finding a ridiculous picture of Roman in a gold plastic crown and a bright red sash that didn’t fit him next to his name. He tapped the contact and pressed the call button.

Then he waited.

The phone rang once, then twice, and then a third time. As he waited for Roman to do something, Logan found himself watching the guy down on the stage. He was fumbling for his phone again, and then he stood there staring at it for a moment before looking up at his co-star and saying something. He turned away from her, facing Logan now, and seemed to accept the call.

Right at that second, Roman answered.

_“Logan?”_

“Roman, greetings.”

Stage guy laughed.

_“Greetings? What are you, an alien?”_ Roman chuckled on the other end of the line. _“What can I do you for, Pocket Protector?”_

Suddenly Logan realized just how out of his element he was. Logan didn’t do… feelings. Why was he the one talking to Roman about feelings? Why was he the one to confront the older man about the fading, yet present ache in Logan’s chest?

_“Logan?”_

“Are you… quite alright, Roman?” Logan asked suddenly.

Stage guy paced closer to the edge and despite the drop to the floor only being a maximum of four feet maybe, something jumped in Logan’s chest at the sight of it. The man looked oddly familiar… His hair a color of medium brown that seemed as if it would shine gold in the sunlight. His height, his build… Something about the young actor just screamed at Logan.

But he’d also been looking at the man for the past couple of months since the production of the play had started.

_“Of course I’m alright! Why wouldn’t I be?”_ Roman replied with an air of practiced ease and majesty. Though it all seemed a little fake to Logan.

“You’re telling me you didn’t feel… that?”

_“Feel what?”_

“The- the thing! In your chest! Patton, Virgil, and I all felt it, and… it wasn’t us…”

Stage guy seemed to droop, his shoulders dropping and a hand shoving into his pocket at whatever conversation he was having on the phone.

_“I’m fine, Logan,”_ Roman sighed tiredly.

“But-”

“Logan! You ready to do some mic tests?” Jordon appeared behind Logan with an excited, bright smile.

“Yeah, just a second, Jordon,” Logan said, holding his phone away from his ear just a bit. “Roman, I have to go, but, I will talk to you later. Is that alright?”

_“What? Uhm, yeah, yeah- did you say Jordon?”_

“I have to go. Bye, Roman.” Logan ended the call and shoved his phone back into his pocket.

Jordon gave him a look that he couldn’t quite make out. “I didn’t realize you were friends with Roman?”

Logan just looked at him. He’d never discussed much about his soulmates with the senior before, so he wasn’t sure why Jordon was suddenly familiar with Roman. “Well, Roman is one of my soulmates, so it would stand to reason that we are friends, yes.”

Jordon just shook his head with a good natured smile. “I’ve just never seen the two of you hang out or talk or even occupy the same space before is all…” The dark brunette man moved forward to look at the soundboard and what Logan had pulled up on the monitor.

“What do you mean?” Logan asked.

“I’ve seen you both almost every day for the past two months, and I’ve never once seen you interact before, or even acknowledge each other’s existence, is all,” Jordon chuckled. “I’m just a little shocked to find you two are soulmates, I suppose.”

Suddenly a voice filled the theater, amplified by a handheld microphone Jordon had left on the stage.

“Logan Johnson.”

And Logan was shocked. That was his name. And if he actually looked at stage guy down there, holding a microphone up to his mouth and staring right at him…

Golden brunette hair…

Dark eyes that Logan couldn’t actually see from this distance…

Tall…

A little muscular…

Tanned skin…

That was, without a doubt, Roman Prince standing down there on the stage, eyes locked on Logan.

Shit.

*

Roman couldn’t believe his eyes.

He could see, even from this distance, Logan go sort of pale. The younger’s eyes seemed to be as wide as dinner plates, staring down at Roman. Roman gave him a lopsided sort of smile and half waved at him.

Jordon held an extra microphone up to Logan’s face, startling the freshman. Logan looked at his mentor briefly, taking hold of the microphone.

Then he stuttered out, “R-Roman, I uh… I- You- uh… Call me!”

Logan shoved the mic back into Jordon’s hands and then bolted for the door.

Roman lost sight of him.

Should he feel rejected? Should Roman feel upset that Logan just ran away from him? Well, perhaps he wasn’t running from him, but the words ‘call me’ sure made it sound that way…

Something in him didn’t feel right though…

This wasn’t how soulmates were supposed to meet… He was supposed to run and sweet Logan off his feet and kiss him and spin him around in circles until they were both laughing and dizzy… Right? That’s what Prince Edward does with Ginger in the play… Or… that’s what the characters were supposed to do… if Roman could just get the scene right.

The ache was back now.

Who was he kidding? He couldn’t even get the real first meeting with one of his soulmates right… How was he supposed to do it in a musical?

*

Logan left his bag in the balcony.

That didn’t matter.

All that mattered was his pounding feet, his racing heart, his heavy breathing…

Before too long, Logan found himself at Declan Hall, using the chip reader that Patton had given him to let himself up the stairs and down the hall to his soulmates’ dorm. He hardly waited to knock and receive a “door’s open” before he flung open the door and flew into the room.

Patton and Virgil both looked a little startled at Logan’s sudden appearance, and then Logan was throwing himself into Patton’s arms and holding on tightly.

“Logan, what happened?” Patton asked, a vague note of concern in his voice.

“Something good, it seems,” Virgil interjected.

Logan was smiling like a fool, he just knew it. He looked weird and out of place with a smile like that on his face, but he just couldn’t help it.

“I met him,” he panted into Patton’s shoulder, despite the four inch height difference between them. “I- I met him.”

Virgil stood from his desk chair urgently. “Met who?”

Logan let go of Patton and stepped back, looking at the both of them, excitement brewing in his blood.

“Roman.”


	12. Part Twelve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roman does some real life method acting practice.

“Roman Prince, what the hell was that?”

Roman started with a jolt, spinning and coming face to face with Dr. Allen. She was so significantly shorter than him, it was almost laughable, honestly. She had stern sort of confusion written across her face in the pinch of her eyebrows.

And then he remembered she was waiting for an answer.

“That- that was… I- Logan, he- he’s-”

God, since when was Roman is inarticulate? It was pathetic!

Spit it out!

“Logan. He’s my soulmate.” Should he be smiling? Because if he was supposed to be smiling, there was something wrong because he wasn’t. He felt out of breath, and there was definitely excitement sparking through his limbs, but it felt detached. It wasn’t his. It made him want to bolt from the building and run or jump or scream or something. Not stand here on this stage with his cast mates and crew looking at him like he’d lost his damn mind.

But his director looked a little like she’d just had someone flick her between the eyes.

“Did… did you seriously just meet him?”

Roman swallowed breathily, nodding.

“You… it’s been… two months, Roman!” Dr. Allen nearly laughed, and the sound of it released a grip of tension on his chest. “The two of you have been on the same musical production for two months, and you just now realized you’re soulmates?!”

Roman chuckled a little with her. His free hand not still holding the microphone reached up and rubbed at the back of his neck. A few members of the cast laughed along with them. Roman supposed that perhaps he was supposed to be embarrassed about this, but he couldn’t find it in him.

He really just wanted a do over.

Wished he could have thought out his actions a little more before just going for it. He could have gone up into the balcony. Or he could have said something different into the microphone. He could have convinced Logan to stay on the phone longer and explain. Or, he could have paid attention to the kid he bumped in the hall. Or the other week, he could have listened in longer, turned around to look, make sure the person talking to a Pat was a random person, not one of his soulmates.

But instead, this was his lot in life.

Dr. Allen composed herself.

“Roman, I’m excusing you from rehearsal-”

“Dr. Allen!”

She held up a hand to silence him with a smile. “And here’s why: you’re having problems with the confession scene? This is a good real life method practice. Experience it for yourself. Go out there, find that boy, and sweep him off his feet the way I know you can. And then tomorrow, I want your best foot forward and I want to see you act out this scene better than anyone else, you hear?”

She smiled at him, the expression just a tad conspiratorial.

Roman’s face split into a grin. He gave her a firm, single nod. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Good. Now get the hell out of my theater!”

Roman scrambled off the stage for his bag and sped out of the building as fast as he could, leaving the microphone behind. Jordon barely caught him on his way out, tossing him a bag and telling him to get it back to Logan.

Outside, Roman stopped and looked around. If he was Logan, where would he go?

Probably his dorm room, especially based off the last time Logan met one (two) of their soulmates.

But he’d become almost unpredictable in the past few weeks. Ever since Patton and Virgil had invited him over for dinner and they’d had a heart to heart (to heart), Logan was acting differently. Less likely to run away, and more likely to turn to their soulmates for support. He’d turned to Roman a time or two as well, but less frequently as he hadn’t been physically available. Or so they’d thought.

He’d gone to a dorm room. Just not his own.

Logan was with Patton and Virgil. Wherever they were.

Roman found himself falling down into an empty bench on the side of a grassy little area, fishing out his phone and scrolling to find Virgil’s contact.

The phone only rang once.

_“Roman?”_

“Virgil!”

_“What’s going on?”_

Roman giggled to himself. “I was hoping you might tell me.”

_“Well-”_ Virgil paused. His voice seemed muffled and far away for a few seconds before returning. _“We’ve got Logan here and he’s super smiley the way Logan isn’t, and he says he met you.”_

Roman full on laughed. Of course. “Well, sorta. I said his name into a microphone and he yelled ‘call me’ and ran away. So, kinda?”

Virgil laughed too. _“He didn’t tell us that…”_

Their laughter died down quickly until there was an almost awkward moment where neither said anything at all. Roman thought he could almost hear Virgil breathing on the other end of the line, and he was sure he could just barely hear voices in the background, neither of them Virgil’s. Too far away. Neither quite deep or rough enough.

What did he say now?

He should do something. Ask to meet. Ask about Logan. Ask where they were. Say something about the musical or rehearsal or something-

_“Roman?”_

“Yes?”

_“Meet me in front of the student center.”_

Roman swallowed, his heart jumping. “When?”

_“Now.”_

He had to consciously make himself take a breath, steadying himself on his feet. He turned in the director of the middle of campus. The student center wasn’t far at all, and he could be there in less than five minutes. Two if he ran.

He’d run.

“Okay.”

Roman was already damn near panting. He was ready. So ready.

_“Okay.”_

The line went dead and Roman stared down at the white end call screen. A stylized, purple-tinted picture of Virgil smirking at the whoever had taken the picture, cropped into a square sat above the nickname Chemically Imbalanced Romance.

Then he looked back up at his path to the student center. He stashed his phone away in his pocket, taking off at a dead run. His messenger bag bounced against his left thigh, Logan’s navy blue backpack clutched in his fist. There weren’t a whole lot of other people crossing his path, so he was able to get away with very little swerving to avoid any obstacles.

There were, however, a fair few people milling around outside the building and in the grassy areas crossed with cement paths in front. Students were sitting down to eat dinner, studying on blankets in the grass or just messing around. It wasn’t late but the sun was settling. The drawbacks of fall and winter. Daylight is limited. And with Thanksgiving coming up in about two weeks, they were nearing the colder months.

But Roman wasn’t cold. He was hot under his skin and sweating with nervous energy stirring in his belly.

He stopped in the middle of the large outdoor sitting area, surrounded by half filled metal picnic tables, being passed by students with trays and bags and-

And Roman couldn’t see anyone he knew. None of these people were very familiar, or at least they weren’t who he was looking for, so they didn’t matter. He might have been waved at by a casual classmate or two, passing by, but he hardly acknowledged them. He was looking for someone.

Looking for black and purple hair falling over cocoa brown eyes, pale skin and light freckles on an average looking nose, tall but still shorter than Roman himself. A nineteen year old kid who’d rather spend his time inside with his soulmate(s) and just write or draw or read, than talk to anyone else. Looking for the kid who smiled so, so brightly when Patton had surprised him with a Skype birthday party where he’d baked a chocolate cake and covered it in messy purple and gray frosting, because Patton may love to bake, and his food may turn out exceptionally delicious, but he couldn’t make frosting or decorations neat or pretty to save his life. But Virgil hadn’t cared and had said the cake tasted wonderful, even if the frosting had been a little heavy handed.

Looking for-

Him.

Roman had stopped turning in his little circle, eyes locking on the figure moving towards him. He was wearing the jacket he and Patton had put together themselves once for… something. Roman forgot.

It didn’t matter.

Virgil had seen him too.

Roman felt frozen in place for only a split second before he nearly dropped Logan’s bag in his rush to meet Virgil where he stood in the grass. Virgil hardly got a couple steps forward before Roman met him, letting go of Logan’s bag and allowing his own to slip off his shoulder. They both landed in the grass at their feet as Roman reached for Virgil, meeting the younger man in a hug.

Virgil let out of harsh breath as they basically collided. His arms circled around Roman’s shoulders, clinging tightly as Roman held onto his back.

They stood there for a moment, holding onto each other and breathing unsteadily into the other’s shoulder and calming their racing hearts. Roman could feel his heart trying to beat straight out of his chest, and he wondered if Virgil could feel it. If he knew just how hard this was. How much he wanted to let go to look Virgil in the eye, but just how he never wanted to let go. How much he wanted to keep the younger man right here in his arms forever where he was safe so that Roman could just… hold on forever and ever…

He might cry.

Roman might actually cry.

He leaned away from Virgil, just enough to coax the nineteen year old to lift his head and look Roman in the eyes.

No picture could do him justice. Virgil was beautiful up close. Beautiful in a masculine, edgy sort of way with smudged black eyeliner and light bruises under his eyes from where he didn’t get enough sleep. His mouth pulled into this genuine smile, showing off the cupid’s bow in his upper lip. His bright blush across his cheeks smothered any hint of his freckles.

Roman couldn’t stop himself from smiling.

He laughed instead.

His grip shifted on Virgil, tightening his arms around him, lifting the shorter man’s weight off the grass and spun them around. Virgil let out a truly unmasculine shriek, followed closely by laughter and the almost demands to put him down that were just a little too teasing to be serious. Roman ignored him for a second, tipping his head back and letting light high giggles tumble into the air around them until he found himself getting dizzy.

He slowed them to a stop, letting Virgil down and settling him back on his feet.

“God, Roman…” Virgil murmured giddily.

Roman acted without thinking. He ducked his head, meeting Virgil and pressing their lips together with a gentle firmness. The world didn’t stop around them, and there were no magical birds or soundtrack music. Nothing like how it was in the movies. No dramatic music, no bystanders sighing dramatically with their hands clasped up to their chests.

There were bystanders, who probably realized what was going on, and there was a hoot and a holler or two, but none of Disney’s romantic sighs and “aww”s.

Roman pulled back, searching Virgil’s face for a reaction. His eyes were closed, his smile was gone, but he seemed just sort of peaceful. Content.

Not how Virgil usually looked.

Roman thought he was gorgeous.

Then Virgil opened his eyes again.

The red golden light of the setting sun turned Virgil’s brown eyes into rich amber bronze, shining with a red fire up at Roman.

“Virgil…”

“Roman.”

Virgil sighed contentedly, sinking into their embrace again, resting his head on Roman’s shoulder.

Suddenly a long archived memory popped into the forefront of Roman’s mind. An early text conversation with Virgil, talking about the first time they would meet.

Roman had insisted it would be perfect and romantic. That they would meet and Virgil would run into his arms and Roman would sweep him off his feet and lift him onto his white horse and they would ride away into sunset together. In his defense, Roman had still been going through his prince phase at the time. Yes, even at twelve years old or whatever it had been.

Virgil had insisted that it wouldn’t be anything like that. That he didn’t want it to be epic or romantic. He hoped they would just bump into each other at some point maybe in the library or the grocery store or something. Low key and simple that would require a blushy, quiet, simple conversation at most where they might make plans to hang out later or just go back to… wherever one of them was staying.

Simple and low stress.

But here they were.

Something almost in between was still distinctly romantic and Disney-like.

Roman chuckled a little, prompting a questioning sound to exit his soulmate.

“I told you,” Roman breathed happily, shifting them side to side on their feet. “Just like a fairytale.”

Virgil snorted and pulled back from their embrace to punch Roman in the shoulder affectionately.

“Whatever, Princey. You’re the one who ran into my arms.”

Roman smiled again.

He had.


	13. Part Thirteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is Roman's last chance to get this right, but he's still struggling. He can handle it though, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God, this took forever to write. I am so, so sorry about how delayed it's been. I hope you like this chapter, and I really, truly hope to god it was worth the wait. Thanks!

He’d read through the script at least three times already throughout the day, and not because he didn’t have anything to do. Honestly, Roman had so many things to do that he might have lost time by rereading a script he was completely and totally familiar with.

But something about it just wasn’t sitting right.

He couldn’t pin down the feeling until about halfway through practice that afternoon.

Dr. Allen had them start over from the beginning and go through every scene leading up to the confession. Smaller scenes that didn’t have Roman and Sera in them together were skipped in favor of getting to the “important” bits. Not to say the scenes without them were unimportant, Dr. Allen specified, but everyone knew the of issues they’d been having.

Almost three quarters of the way through the scene and it finally hit him what felt all wrong.

“Alright, stop! Stop, stop, stop,” Dr. Allen called. She waved her hands through the air in a cutting motion, getting all the attention on her. The woman sighed, squeezing her eyes shut and pinching the bridge of her nose.

“Roman…” she huffed on a hard breath. “What is the issue? What did I tell you do to yesterday?”

Roman winced, stepping away from Sera and facing their director.

“I- I know, Dr. Allen, but-”

“So what is the issue?”

“Well, I had a thought-”

“You know what I said, Roman.”

“I know-”

“If you don’t get this scene down by this evening, you won’t be in opening night.”

“I know that, ma’am-”

“Roman Prince.” Dr. Allen’s tone took on a deadly blunt edge. “What does everyone in this theater know about calling me ma’am?”

Roman took a deep breath. “That we are not to call you that, ever, under any circumstances.”

Dr. Allen nodded. “Exactly. That’s right. Now,” she turned and looked him directly in the eye, “what have you been trying to say?”

Deep breath. Swallow. “Prince Edward’s reaction to finding out Ginger is his soulmate doesn’t make sense.”

She paused in her pacing, cocking a skeptical eyebrow up at him, challenging. “Oh really? Enlighten me.”

“Okay,” Roman said, taking as calming a breath as he could. “Well, for starters, this scene is written as if Edward and Ginger had just met for the first time. But actually, they’re already friends. They already love each other. This scene is huge and over the top, which, yes, is usually right up my alley, but it doesn’t fit into the dynamic that the rest of the play has built so far.”

Dr. Allen’s eyebrows furrowed as her gaze dropped. Then she was picking up her discarded script and flipping through it, reading lines and then flipping more pages and reading a few lines. After a few moments in which Roman started to sweat out of pure unadulterated nervousness, she looked back at him with a contemplative look. She motioned for him to continue.

Roman swallowed, glancing around the theater, his eyes drawn up movement up in the balcony. There he saw Logan rushing in through the door to put his bag down as if he was late. He watched for a second in which Logan leaned over to exchange hushed words with Jordon. Then Roman felt Logan’s deep brown eyes focus on him.

Roman took a split second, closed his eyes and sucked in a slow, deep breath, then opened them again and focused on Dr. Allen.

“Ginger herself had already had her suspicions up to this point about Edward being her soulmate, so her own reaction would be a lot calmer than it’s portrayed. And as for Edward and his over the top proclamations of undying love for her, those don’t fit either. Because they’ve already become friends and grown close. Ginger and Edward already love each other, and they know they love each other…” Roman trailed off, his eyes wandering back up to the balcony and settling on Logan again. A feeling that was soft and fuzzy red swelled in the middle of Roman’s chest, right where his lungs were. It felt just a little harder to breathe, but in a good way. He felt a smile grow on his face. “It’s really just a matter of knowing for sure that they’re ‘meant to be’, and that’s cool and all but… it’s doesn’t change their feelings. Crazy, out-there, excessive pronouncements of love just don’t fit in here because they aren’t needed.”

Roman almost hadn’t realized when he’d stopped talking. He just smiled up at Logan, watching him smile back, blissfully unaware of the silence and growing number of eyes on him for the moment.

Until Dr. Allen brought him crashing back down to earth rather forcefully.

“Well, Roman,” she said, seeming loud in the silence, “That was very good insight. I appreciate it. And beyond that, you clearly learned something last night, and I believe you are now a better actor for it.”

“Thank you, Dr. Allen-”

“And as valid as your points are, and as right as you are, unfortunately we cannot change the play now. I am impressed and pleased that you noticed, though.” She smiled at him, closing her script and tossing it gently back onto the seat at her side. “Now, can we take this scene from the top, please, everyone?”

Dr. Allen clapped her hands at them, a teasing, bright smile firmly on her face. Roman smiled back at her, turning back to Sera and his other cast mates with a pep in his step.

He could do this. He could make this happen.

It took another half run before Roman fulling found his groove again. But by the end of rehearsal that day, he was feeling confident and sure and everyone was smiling and laughing and joking around. They were going to be so ready for opening night, they’d knock the audience’s socks off.

And only one thing changed.

In Roman’s mind, the scene was no longer Prince Edward proclaiming love for poor little Ginger Baker. It was just Roman, telling just Logan all the things he’d ever thought and felt and practiced in his head. Glancing up and finding one of his fated loves watching with rapt attention, and imagining him in his arms instead.

No offense to Sera, but still. It worked.

*

Roman kept his eyes on the balcony a little more than was truly warranted, but he didn’t want to miss this. He didn’t want to miss his chance to actually meet his soulmate. He butchered the first time, so the second time was going to be perfect.

Well, maybe not perfect, but that was okay. Roman could live with okay.

As he changed out of his costume backstage, his phone buzzed from its place atop his pile of clothes. He let it wait until he was finished undressing and redressing, then checked it. He had a message from Logan.

Pocket Protector @ 8:18 | Would you mind very much if I asked you to join me for a cup of soothing tea on our way back to our dorms?

Roman barked a laugh suddenly and loudly.

Queen Bee @ 8:27 | How long did it take you to write that?

Roman tucked his phone away in his pocket for a moment while he grabbed the rest of his items. As he turned for the door to leave, he heard a knock on the doorframe of the dressing room.

“Too long,” a familiar voice admitted.

Roman couldn’t help the way the air left his lungs in a tiny, high pitched gasp. It was a familiar voice with a familiar timbre that Roman could recognize in his sleep. Except that this time, there was no distortion, no static, no electronic, metallic, clangy sort of fuzz to it.

When he turned fully around and came face to face with Logan, he nearly threw caution to the wind and scooped him up right then and there.

But he didn’t. Because Roman knew and remembered that Logan didn’t like a whole lot of physical contact. He might not appreciate a sudden, impromptu hug from him. So Roman forced himself to stay his ground, bounce a little on his toes and squeal a bit in the back of his throat. He couldn’t stop smiling.

And it seemed, neither could Logan.

This was so, so much. First Virgil yesterday, now Logan (for real) today. It was all so, so, so so perfect. And Roman had no idea where to go from here.

After a second where the air started to turn clammy with an air of awkwardness, Logan cleared his throat, his cheeks flushing an embarrassed pink. His eyes dropped to the floor and he fidgeted in place nervously.

“So… tea?” Logan offered, peaking back up at Roman.

It was just too fucking cute.

Roman’s smile brightened (if that was at all possible) and he nodded. Suddenly his princely charm and calm, collected demeanor was back. Blushing and cute. Roman knew exactly what to do with bushing and cute.

“Sure, cutie,” he agreed with a fake teasing wink. He closed the distance between them in a few steps, invading Logan’s personal space just a little bit so he could add in a whisper, “I know a little place that’s open twenty four seven. The tea’s not five-star, but I hear the company is pretty outstanding.”

Roman wiggled his eyebrows a little bit for good measure.

Logan almost snorted, rolling his eyes and giving his soulmate a fond look.

“Oh, yeah?” he challenged, something mischievous glinting in his eyes. “I guess I’ll have to decide that for myself, Prince Charming.”

Logan? Flirting?

That was something Roman never thought he’d see in a million years. But he supposed there was a first time for everything. Perhaps Virgil and Patton coached him or gave him lessons in their spare time in the past few weeks.

Not that Roman was sure either of them could flirt either.

Either way, Roman was not going to pass this opportunity up.

“So where is this hole in the wall?” Logan teased as Roman finally stepped out into the hallway and closed the dressing room behind him.

“Oh, not far. But be prepared,” he warned, “you might leave covered in glitter.”

Logan’s clearly carefully crafted outer persona faltered a little. “Why?”

Roman shrugged, relaxing back from his flirting. “Because I like it, and it gets on literally everything. It’s the herpes of the craft world, they say.”

Logan shook his head, adjusting his glasses. His casual, neutral expression returned, a look Roman was far more accustomed to.

“Just as long as it’s not in my tea,” he commented.

Roman smiled softly as they exited the building together.

A hand brushed against his cautiously. His brushed it in return.

Carefully, Logan slid his hand into Roman’s.

“I promise,” Roman said quietly, almost too softly. “No glitter in the tea.”

A squeeze to his fingers.

“Thanks.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! This chapter was not completely proof read before it was posted, so there might be typos. If you found some, please feel free to let me know so I can go in and change them. Anyway, I really hope you liked this, please let me know if you did, and thanks again!


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